Twisted Logic
by peace.love.randomness
Summary: Studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who she's hated for years, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. But its really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this twisted logic.
1. After We Have Left Our Homes

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "After We Have Left Our Homes" is belongs to the band Mutemath.

* * *

**Chapter One: After We Have Left Our Homes**

"_When can we start over?_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

School robes? _Check. _Other clothes for free time and Hogsmeade trips? _Check. _Toiletries? _Check. _School books? _Check. _Photograph with the seeker from the Holyhead Harpies? _Check._

_What am I missing?_

I had been at it for hours, going over and over my mental list of things I had to bring to Hogwarts. It was almost midnight., and I had to be ready to leave the next morning by 9 o'clock. It was an hour flight by car to King's Cross station, and the Hogwarts Express left at 11 o'clock. I had to leave time to meet up with Dominique, Molly, and Morgan so we could get a compartment together, and also had to have enough time to get through a tearful goodbye with my Uncle Matt.

As much as I'd miss him, I always felt a weight being lifted off my shoulders after I left home. I loved being home with my Uncle Matt over holiday. I loved him to pieces. He'd always been there for me… He's the only family I have. But as much as I would miss him, leaving home for school has never been an issue with me. Being home meant being constantly reminded that I was living a lie, pretending I lived with my father, pretending my family was normal. It's not as if Uncle Matt and I really talked about it, but it spoke in the silence of the house. He would always be my father figure, but he would never be my father. And he'd never be my mother either. He's not sensitive enough to even hold that role… or feminine enough.

Have you ever played that game where someone says a word or phrase to you, and you have to say the first thing that comes to mind? If someone was playing that game with me and they said, "Leaving home", then I would say "Leaving Hogwarts." Because to me, Hogwarts is my home. There, I have Molly. I have Dom. I have Morgan. I have my studies.

The sun through my window made something on my desk glitter gold, breaking me from my thoughts. I jumped up from my bed, grabbing the object that had shined in the light. My Head Girl badge. I smiled to myself, still feeling proud I had the honor of holding the badge in my hand.

I heard a knock on my door, and jumped at the sound. I had thought I was the only one awake.

"Yes?"

My Uncle Matt stepped into view. He was tall, so tall he had to stoop down in the doorway, and had incredibly dark, short hair, and stubble surrounding his defined jaw and full lips. If you saw my uncle and I out and about, you would have never guessed we were related. Opposing to his looks, I was short, around five foot, one inch, with incredibly long red hair. Past my long fringe was two, stormy grey eyes, the only trait that my uncle and I shared.

"I know how much you love school and how you're probably feeling like a little girl on Christmas Eve, but could you maybe try to get some sleep tonight? " I looked up at my uncle guiltily while he spoke. "Besides…you don't want to scare off all those school boys if you don't get enough of your beauty sleep."

"You're hysterical," I deadpanned. Chuckling, I through the nearest pillow at him, and he caught it skillfully. Years of playing Quidditch really paid off when it came to his reflexes.

My uncle chuckled, stepping forward to kiss my forehead before walking towards my door. When he reached it he turned pointing a finger at me and saying "Sleep," in what he may have hoped was a threatening tone, but his lopsided smile ruined it. He turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

I smiled at the space he had left. Even though I was thrilled to go back to school, I would miss the constant reminder of how cool my uncle was.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

Brown eyes stared back at me. They shone with many emotions. Worry. Excitement. Expectation. Pride.

My eyes flittered from my own in the mirror down to the front of my shirt. I had clipped on my Head Boy badge. You know, just to make sure it worked… or something. The truth was, I was so proud to be able to wear that badge, just like my grandfather had. I was excited to take the responsibility of Head Boy, and I would be ready the second I stepped onto the Hogwarts Express.

However, thinking of school, my heart dropped into my stomach. Of course I was excited to spend almost every waking hour with my cousin Fred, and even more excited to be with my friends, giving our teachers hell… but I was not excited to face the stereotypes that had been pegged on me since my first year at Hogwarts. I was, and always would be, the son of Ginny Weasley, known member of Dumbledore's Army and former player of the Holyhead Harpies, and, of course, Harry Potter, the Chosen One who defeated Voldemort. I hated being compared to my parents. I will always think it is amazing that my parents did so much during the war, that my dad was the one who caused the Dark Lord to fall, but I did hate the comments from students at school.

I felt a hand clasp on my shoulder and looked up in the mirror to see my dad next to me. My dad and I looked incredibly alike. We had the same black, unruly hair that my Grandpa also had, and the same tall and lanky yet muscular structure. Our eyes were different, however. Dad has emerald green eyes and I have my mum's eyes… the muddy brown Weasley eyes. My dad shares that with me also…that he looked like his dad, but with his mother's eyes.

"You're up late, James. All packed?" my father questioned me. When I nodded, he cracked a smile and said, "Good. But, you know that your mum will be making sure you packed everything you need from now until the second you walk on that train tomorrow."

I chuckled and replied, "I know, Dad. I've been getting this speech since I was eleven, remember?"

Dad smiled at me fondly and said, "Yeah, I know. I can't believe you're already soon to be eighteen, heading off to your final year of Hogwarts." I rolled my eyes at this, but smiled all the same. "James," my dad started seriously, "I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Being Head Boy… well with all the pranking you've done the past six years of your life and I can't say any of us expected it…" We both laughed at this. "But I am incredibly proud of you."

Smiling almost awkwardly, I said, "Thanks, Dad. It means a lot." And it did. My dad and I have always had a very close relationship, and hearing how proud he was of me out loud gave me more strength. Strength to face comparisons to my parents. Face the stereotype of me having the perfect life. Face whatever hardships I might encounter this year. Whatever happened, I wouldn't let my dad or myself down.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"OI! WEASLEY!" I shouted. I knew, however, how many Weasleys there were and thoroughly enjoyed seeing at least eight heads turn my way. I was really trying to get the attention of two of my best friends, Dominique and Molly. I had just finished saying goodbye to Uncle Matt. I heard the typical "I can't believe you're so grown up," and, "I'm so proud of you." I think he teared up a little bit, but he has for the past six years that he has said goodbye to me on the platform.

"ABIGAIL KING! OVER HERE YOU DOLT!" I looked to my right, where the almost embarrassingly loud exclamation came from, and saw Molly and Dom waving to me, laughing at the scene they had made. Smiling to them and chuckling under my breath, I weaved through the crowd of young wizards and witches saying goodbye to their mums and dads. Even after the years, seeing mothers hug their daughters, dads telling their daughters to stay away from boys, still made me a little sad. I tried to ignore the pang in my chest while I walked over to the Weasleys.

Dom and Molly were waiting for me on a bench, Bill and Percy standing near a bench, having their own conversation about their work. I had called Molly and Dom's parents by their first names since first year. It got too confusing with there being too many Mr. Weasley's around, so the families both agreed first names were the best choice for their children's friends. I saw Louis, Dom's younger brother, talking to Lucy, Molly's younger sister. They have always been pretty good friends, despite the fact that Lucy, a fifth year, was a year older than Louis. Fleur and Audrey, the mothers, were discussing how they couldn't believe how fast everyone was growing up. It was a typical scene here at Platform 9 ¾.

Suddenly, I was tackled by a giant hug. "Abigail! I missed you so much!" I recognized the voice of Dominique Weasley.

I pulled back from the hug to look at my best friend. Yup. Still the same tall, curvy girl with choppy, short, platinum blonde hair – gorgeous as ever. The only difference in her appearance was the hot pink highlights she must have put in her hair over the summer.

Taking a pink strand in my hand, I gave her a questioning look and said, "I thought you hated pink…?"

"Not in my hair, I don't! Plus, this isn't pink. It's _hot_ pink. Get it right, woman! I'm thinking it's a total boy magnet, don't you think?" I laughed. Yep. Still the same old Dominique. She's always been a bit of a handful. Loud. Witty. Overly obsessed with boys. But I love her to death. Though it would always be the four of us – me, Dom, Molly, and Morgan – Dom and I have always had a special bond.

"Missed you too, Dom," I told her and gave her another squeeze.

"Dominiqueeee," I heard someone whine, "Stop hogging Abigail!"

I turned around to see Molly Weasley wearing her trademark smirk. It described her perfectly. Nothing like her father Percy, Molly was the epitome of a trouble maker. Maybe it was the fact that it was against her father's wishes for her to get in trouble, but whatever it was, Molly seemed to inherit her Uncle George's prankster side rather than her father's studious side.

Molly flipped her long, straight red hair over her shoulder and said, "Get over here and give me a hug, King, before I hex you into oblivion." We both smiled and I complied. I had missed her craziness over the summer.

"How was your summer?" I asked as I pulled back from the hug. "Get into any trouble?"

"Oh, you know," Molly said, smirking secretively. "The usual."

I laughed. "I don't think I want to know…" and she just smirked in return.

"Well," Dominique said, "my summer was awesome." She started telling us her escapades in France visiting her grandparents (and her encounters with French boys) when a rather loud bicker fest drowned her out.

"Well, Morgan, dear, I just cannot fathom how you can keep denying how much you missed me over the summer! Especially when you know how much it breaks my heart!" Molly and Dom's cousin, Fred Weasley, was chasing after the final girl in our quartet, Morgan Finnegan, who was walking as fast as she could with her luggage cart. Morgan's long, black, incredibly curly hair (from her father's Irish looks) bounced as she was chased by the tall, lanky, dark skinned lad whom she hated so much. "Don't tell me this year is going to be another year full of denial of your love for me."

Molly, Dom, and I couldn't help but giggle. Fred and Morgan had been fighting ever since the moment they met first year. Fred is convinced Morgan loves him, or just likes to tease her, and Morgan hates the plain sight of him. Their bickering never seems to end.

Coming to a stop once she reached us, Morgan released her luggage cart and reached for a rather fierce group hug from us. "You have _no idea _how happy I am to see you guys," she told us as she released us and shot a look at Fred, who was walking past us towards Mitchell Wood and his folks.

We were all ready to reply when Molly and Dom's grandmother, who even I called Grandma Molly, came up to us. "Oh, come along dears, others are beginning to board the train!" Giving us all motherly kisses on our foreheads, she told us to behave and have a good year before seeking out her many other grandchildren. Molly and Dom said a last goodbye to their parents and then the four of us boarded the train. Despite Morgan's protests, Dom, being very close with her cousin, pulled us all into Fred Weasley's compartment and went to go sit next to him. Being the last to enter, I turned around and closed the door behind me, but saw a hand get caught before it could close and I heard a muffled, "_Ow!_"

Opening the door, apologies already leaving my mouth, I looked up to see James Potter cradling his hurt hand in his other. The next "Oh, I'm so sorry!" never came out, and instead I stared at Potter and said, "Oh, it's just you," before turning around and sitting beside Molly, Mitchell, and Ryan.

Scoffing, Potter went to sit beside Morgan, who had Fred on her other side. The moment Potter plopped down, Fred and Morgan started bickering with no mercy. Already getting bored with their newest spat, I lifted my legs up across the compartment and jammed them in between Morgan and Potter, kicking him in the process. He instantly scooted closer to my legs, making it as uncomfortable for me as possible.

"What the hell, Potter?" I exclaimed.

"What the hell _you, _Your Highness?" I ignored his unoriginal crack at my surname, King. "Why exactly do you have to put your feet here?"

"Well if you must know, my poor feet are aching," I snapped, "and your seat was the most convenient place to rest them."

"Can't you put them somewhere else?" he complained.

I gestured to the rest of the compartment. "Obviously not."

There were a total of eight people in our compartment; plainly, my best friends and Potter's best friends. I was, of course, attached to the hip with Dom, Molly, and Morgan (if I had that many hips). Potter's mess of misfits consisted of Fred Weasley, heinous provoker of one of my best friends; Ryan Thomas, dangerously tall smooth talker with chocolate skin; and Mitch Wood, the more reserved and least offending of all Potters friends. But don't get me wrong, I love them all. They seemed to share all the appealing qualities that Potter lacked.

Simply put, Potter and I have _never _gotten along.

"So," I continued, "why don't you scoot your arse over so we can both be comfortable?

"I'll scoot over if you don't kick me anymore!" he seethed.

"Fine."

"Fine." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Fine." I crossed my legs in contempt.

I took the opportunity of glaring at him to study him a little. He had grown a couple inches since the last school year and was at least a foot taller than me now. I could plainly see the muscles in his arms tense when he crossed them over his chest. He moved them momentarily to run one of his hands through his hair. That had always bothered me before. Now I just kind of stared at his hands.

"Abigail! HEY! Aren't you listening?" I heard Dom say.

I snapped out of it. "What? Yeah, of course."

"So why don't you show everyone?" she asked sneakily. It was just like Dom to put the attention on me.

"What is it, Abigail?" Mitch asked, shaking his light brown hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah," Ryan chuckled, "don't kill us with the suspense."

I smiled and sighed in resignation, reaching down into my bag. Slowly, I pulled out my Head Girl badge, showing it off in all its glory. I instantly received congratulations from most of my friends. However, I noticed that Fred was chuckling darkly and Potter had gotten an oddly blank look on his face.

I dropped my badge in my lap and warily said, "What is it, Fred?"

Instead of answering, Fred simply said, "James?"

Potter slowly but surely put his hand in his pocket and produced a small glittering badge of his own.

"You _must _be joking."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! We have this whole story planned out and half already written. If you want to keep up with the story, please subscribe!

Also, PLEASE REVIEW! Its our first collab story, so feedback is AWESOME! click the little button!


	2. Let the Flames Begin

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Let the Flames Begin" belongs to Paramore.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Let the Flames Begin**

"_I give it all my oxygen to let the flames begin. Oh, glory…"_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

For Potter and I, the rest of the train ride to Hogwarts passed in stunned silence. But once we got to the castle and into the Great Hall for sorting, that silence was soon broken.

We were sitting with the usual suspects, since all of us were in Gryffindor. Molly was waving and winking up at the teachers – she always regarded our professors like they were her best friends, especially McGonagall, who Molly constantly called Minerva just to get the reaction. Fred was pulling on the curls of Morgan's hair, watching them bounce when he let go. Morgan was slapping his hand away with no mercy. And Dom was in an animated discussion with Ryan and Mitch about this year's quidditch team, which Fred was to be the captain of.

The second the sorting ceremony began, the entire hall quieted down. That is, with the exception of Potter and me.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing with that badge?" he shot at me in a hushed whisper.

"_Melina Cleveley!"_

I rolled my eyes at this and whispered, "Me? What about you?"

"_Gryffindor!"_

"I'm Head Boy," he stated. "I have obviously deserved this position more than you!"

"_Thomas Cardoli!"_

"Deserved? You've been pranking innocent first years since _your _first year," I spat.

"_Ravenclaw!"_

"And I'm quite good at it."

_"Genevieve Zabini!"_

"And anyway," I continued, ignoring this, "why wouldn't I deserve Head Girl?"

"_Slytherin!"_

"You're crazy, that's why! A complete and utter lunatic!"

"_Matthew Hopkins!"_

"Takes one to know one, Potter."

"_Hufflepuff!" _

While glaring at Potter, I could faintly hear the Sorting ceremony continuing in the background, but my ears were buzzing with anger. I did, though, see Headmistress McGonagall glaring at us from under her tiny spectacles. Though we were whispering, our whispers were loud stage whispers at that. Molly, always the trouble maker, noticed the surplus attention on our part of the table and started sending even more winks in McGonagall's direction. The Headmistress's glare became even more intense, now annoyed by more than just Potter and I.

Potter seemed to have notice McGonagall's frustration also, and moved closer to mutter softly in my ear, "It will be your fault if I get lifetime detentions for hexing you into the next century." Unlike most young men, Potter had no qualms with threatening me. We'd been hexing each other for years.

I could feel his breath on my ear, and ignored the weird sensation I got from being in such a closer proximity with the bane of my existence. I whispered back, "And it will be your fault, Potter, if this year is living hell for me."

"It takes two to tango, Your Most Noble Highness."

"Would you stop calling me that!" I was seething at this point, glaring at Potter, wishing that the force of my stare would make his big, arrogant head fall off of his body.

"But my lady, your surname so obviously requests that your peers address you in such…a majestic manner," he replied with a matter-of-fact tone, feigning to be the absolute epitome of innocence.

Holding back a completely frustrated groan, I decide to act like the know it all I was and said, "Oh, just quit it. It would make more sense if my last name was Queen, anyway. I am a girl after all."

Potter, keeping his face completely serious and looking directly into my eyes, replied, "What are you getting at, Your Highness? I don't see any females where I'm looking…"

Glaring at him with more force and annoyance than ever before, I whipped my wand out of my school robe and pointed it at Potter.

However before I could do anything drastic, Professor McGonagall, still looking at our table, said rather loudly, "Now! It is time for the feast to begin!" and started walking right to me and Potter.

"Good going, Potter," I said, "I know you just love getting in to trouble, but leave me out of it next time, yeah?"

"What are you whining about, King?" Potter said, looking very confused and irritated.

Making a strangled noise of annoyance, I pointed in the direction of McGonagall and said, "Look who's walking our way, you twat!"

He whipped his head in the direction I was pointing before turning around, making a frustrated face, before plastering on his too-cool-I'm-Mr.-Head-Boy-Quidditch-Stud smile just in time for McGonagall to reach us.

"Mr. Potter, Miss King – "

"Professor!" Potter exclaimed with fake brightness. "Fancy seeing you at this lovely school! Tell me, how was your break?"

Usually, James Potter's charms worked on every teacher in school. For some reason, McGonagall has always had a powerful immunity to it. It's not as if she hates him or anything of the sort, she just isn't as gullible and transparent as the other teachers…well except for Professor Longbottom, but Potter would never try his charms on his parents' close friend anyway…If only there was some immunization potion to Potter's charms she could pass around at staff meetings…

Glancing shortly at Potter, McGonagall replied, "Lovely, I assure you, but we are back from holiday now and it is time for everyone to get their heads back on right." She looked at us with meaning before she continued. "Now, I came to congratulate you both on making Head Boy and Head Girl this year." My eyebrows shot up at this, expecting that she came over to yell at us about disrupting the sorting ceremony. "When the other students are attending to their dormitories after the meal, I will show you both to your Head's dormitory. You will be sharing a Common Room and a bathroom –" Potter and I were shocked into silence at this point, "and you will each get your own bedroom. Your curfew is to be the direct time of whenever your Head Duties end. Even though you are Head Boy and Girl, there will be consequences for breaking curfew." She looked at us above her glasses, letting the information sink in. "That is all. I'm sure the rest of the meal will go without problem, is that correct?"

Sputtering slightly before answering, I finally managed out, "Absolutely, Headmistress," as James replied "Of course, professor."

"Good," was all McGonagall said, shooting us another meaningful look before walking away to her table.

Potter sat in silence for a few moments before, in a daze, gathering sweet potatoes on his plate and grabbing a few turkey legs. I will still completely stunned, only one thought swimming through my head.

_Bathroom…Potter…Head Dorm…Sharing a bathroom…with James! Potter! How can this be happening? How in the name of Merlin's most saggy Y fronts is this happening!_

Snapping me out of my daze, Dom said to me, "Hon, can you pass the salt please?" I nodded stupidly to her and slid it across the table to her. She eyed me worriedly before getting out of her seat sprinting around the giant table and coming to stand in front of me shortly. She motioned for me to swing around in my seat, which I did, and she plopped herself down in my lap. We got a few stares after this, as we usually did, but, like I said, this was usual for me and Dom. Even though she's so much taller than me, she sits on me constantly. And vise versa.

"What in the hell is wrong with you, Abigail?" she asked, staring at me intently.

Making sure Potter, who had gone to sit next to Mitchell Wood, was not around, I managed to splutter out, "P-Potter…bathroom…in the Head's Dorm…we have to share a bathroom."

Dom looked at me for a moment before clapping a hand down on my shoulder and saying, "Oh, lighten up, mate. There are worse things you could look at in a towel," before getting off of my lap and taking Potter's seat beside me, levitating her plate to her new seat.

I was left stunned once again. James Potter…in a towel? I can't even classify how I feel about that…

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

"I really don't understand the gigantic problem, mate," Mitchell Wood, my best friend, was saying to me. I was chewing my food intently, concentrating on nothing in particular other than my own thoughts. "It's just a bathroom. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I don't know," I grumbled through my food, "It's just weird. I mean we'll be bathing in the same place. And the room will be all contaminated!"

Mitchell, ever the cool headed guy, chuckled and said, "Contaminated? With what?"

"I don't know, Mitch…" I replied, forking through the dark chocolate cake that had magically appeared on my dessert plate. "Girly stuff."

Mitch chuckled again, as if laughing at my stupidity. "Come on, man, it's not that bad! Take it from me. I grew up with four older sisters. We all shared a bathroom! If I could do it, you can do it!"

"Yeah, well you're sisters can barely count as girls…" Mitchell's sisters all played quidditch at Hogwarts, two going on to play professionally (much to the delight of his father). Much to Oliver Wood's dislike, Mitchell had never taken an interest in Quidditch, caring more about his studies instead.

I thought back on what I had said to Mitch and flinched at my own stupidity. I glanced up at my best mate saying, "Sorry, Mitch. Probably wasn't the nicest thing to say…"

Mitchell, however, was slightly amused. "You think?" he said, his eyes laughing. "Blimey, James, do you doubt women's femininity often as a hobby?"

Thinking through his accusation, I replied, "Well, I did just tell Abigail King that I saw no woman when in her presence."

Mitchell's eyebrows flew up into his light brown curly hair. He turned back to his year muttering, "Well this should be an interesting year…"

I smiled grimly at nothing in particular.

I couldn't agree more.I couldn't believe that I had to be stuck with _Abigail King_ this year, of all people! And with the bitching she'd put up tonight, I could only imagine what hell I'd be put through all. She'd be the death of me, I swear. But if she's going to play dirty, let's have at it.

Let the games begin.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I had just finished taking the tour of the Head's dorm. It was really quite nice. My bedroom was a modest size, with a very nice wardrobe and desk in it, in addition to a full sized mirror. I had looked at the bathroom, also, which had a shower and tub, in addition to a toilet and sink. The whole bathroom was quite fancy, and its walls were gold with red trimming. Gryffindor colors.

Being the studious book worm that I am, when I saw two book shelves completely full with books stuck in the corner of the Common Room, I nearly sprinted to it, extremely excited to browse through the books. I would have been able to browse through them had I not collided with the venomous Head Boy as I was halfway across the room.

"OI!" he yelled, even though I was standing right next to him. "Watch where you're going, would you?"

"Watch where I'M going!" I exclaimed, quite loudly in fact. "It was your fault that I bumped you!"

"My fault! God, you really are nothing but an annoying, smart ass, clumsy book worm!"

"Whatever!" I know it wasn't a good comeback, but if it makes it better, I gave him a shove. A rather hard one, too. You, know. For good measure. "Just stay out of my way, Potter! And I don't just mean in the common room!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He snarled at me.

"What it _means_ is this is my year. I'm Head Girl. I'm supposed to be on top of things this year. This is my first real taste of responsibility and I've wanted this for years. I'm not going to let you botch it up just because you're some prank-loving, ass-kissing, prat who happens to be my Co-Head!"

"FINE!" he yelled in my face. "As long as YOU stay out of MY way in return?"

"Stay out of YOUR way?" I replied, outraged. "Why would I be in your way!"

"I dunno! You were the one who just bumped me!"

I gave out a strangled noise of annoyance and frustration. "You prick! Just get it through your thick head! I will NOT let you ruin this year for me. It won't happen!"

"You're right! You'll be ruining it all by yourself!"

"You know what, Potter? I'm done with you!" I screamed as I shouldered past him and made my way to my bedroom, which was in the direction of the exit.

"Going to turn in your Head's badge, King?" Potter said scathingly. I could feel him glaring and sneering at my back.

Grasping the doorknob of my bedroom door, I turned around to face him, saying, "Actually, I'll be practicing the Bat Bogey Hex. Maybe that will get you to finally stuff it." Turning around, I entered my room, slamming the door behind me.

I jumped onto my bed, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it.

_James Potter will be the death of me, I swear it! He thinks he can just waltz into my academic life and ruin it? I've been anticipating being Head Girl since I was a first year. Now that I've come this far, I won't let some prat ruin it for me. If he's fighting with fire, it'll be my weapon too. _

_Let the flames begin…_

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! The JSP/OC fandom is pretty little here on FF so it was reaalllyyy encouraging.

Please review!


	3. Smile Like You Mean It

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Smile Like You Mean It" belongs to The Killers.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Smile Like You Mean It**

"_Save some face – you know you've only got one."_

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

The thing about the Head Dorm is that it is very, very quiet. I woke up that morning, expecting to get pelted by Mitch's shoes, or maybe have my sheets pulled back by Ryan, looking for a missing sock or something. But that didn't happen at all. Instead, I just woke up to the sound of my alarm clock blaring at me. I switched off the alarm, sat up, and looked around my room.

Everything was missing from the room I slept in quite fitfully last night. There should have been four more beds, four more trunks, four more of my mates. Not that they would all fit anyway. Normally I would be grateful for the peace and quiet. But now the one-person room just seemed lonely.

All the decorations of my bedroom had been provided by the school. There was a mirror, an empty desk, and a wardrobe. The mirror was nice, I guess. And the desk would be useful for schoolwork – even if it did need a lamp or some frames to put on top. But it was the wardrobe that puzzled me. In all my years at Hogwarts, I never once had a wardrobe. Everyone kept their trunks at the end of their beds, being our only storage in the dormitories.

I sighed, getting out of bed and standing in front of the wardrobe. Trying an idea, I charmed my trunk into the bottom of the wardrobe. _Better, _I thought, running a hand along my jaw. Stubbly jaw.

I left my room and was about to go into the bathroom to shave when I noticed that the light was on and the door was cracked. Now what happened next doesn't usually happen to me. It takes a lot to shock me. Things like Fred cooperating with Morgan, or King showing me her Head Girl Badge. Those could be described as shocking. This was different.

Just as I was about to barge in and yell at King for hogging the bathroom, I saw her through the crack. She was humming some muggle tune and in the middle of throwing on her uniform shirt. For a moment, I saw the small her back before it was covered by the white button-up.

Then I snapped back into my right mind and, backing away from the bathroom door slowly, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I could feel my face getting warm. However, I couldn't even think about what had just happened before Fred burst into the common room.

He heaved a big sigh and was about to say something when he saw me, raising one eyebrow, and said, "What's gotten into you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I was going to say something clever, like "Unless King is a ghost who was just practically half-naked in my bathroom…", but words seemed to escape me.

"Mate?" Fred seemed worried now.

I shook head, and clearing my throat, said, "Never mind." Then something occurred to me. "Wha- How are you in my common room right now?"

Fred gave a mischievous smile and plopped down in one of the armchairs. "I wriggled the password out of my beloved."

"You mean Morgan," I deadpanned.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I mean Morgan. Anyway, she seems to have gotten the password from Abigail last night."

"I didn't know we could give out our passwords."

"You can't," he chuckled. "How's the dorm? Are you grateful to finally get rid of our arses?"

"Not at all," I replied solemnly. "I dunno… it's just weird.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, mate. It's like…even back home I've never had a room to myself. I've always shared with Al. Now it's bloody quiet."

"Yeah, I guess I know what you mean, but –"

All of a sudden the bathroom door slammed open and King walked out. She looked like she was going to just walk past us, when she stopped and looked at Fred. She opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it and closed it. Fred and I just watched her leave, shaking her head and mumbling something about a girl's privacy and prats.

"What's with her?" Fred asked.

"Mate, I don't know. I don't even know how I'm going to survive this year," I groaned.

"Alright, mate, here's the deal." He rubbed his hands together, apparently getting himself ready for this pep talk. "How long have you wanted to be Head Boy?"

"Six years," I mumbled.

"And how many of our pranks have you refrained from doing just in case they could hurt your chances?"

"A lot."

"And are you going to let some girl ruin your year?"

"No," I said, perking up.

"Exactly! You've worked too hard to get your dreams crushed!" He seemed to be getting pretty excited about this.

"Yeah!"

"So that's why you're not going to provoke Abigail unless she does something first," he stated, pointing a finger at me.

"Yeah – wait…what?" Not provoking Abigail King was pretty hard to do…

"Don't start anything, James. That way, if you get into a fight and you both get in trouble for it, you'll know that it was really _her_ fault. The blame will always be on her."

I sat back into the couch for a minute, thinking about what Fred had just said. Now Fred certainly had his idiot moments… but this was actually – "Genius."

"Thank you," Fred said, looking rather pleased with himself.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

_Oh, how wonderful. Now Fred Weasley has the password to my dorm. Not that he's nearly as insufferable as Potter…and I did tell Morgan the password…_

I tried to clear my head of certain prats and worries about the year as I walked to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Sauntering up to my best mates, I sat down beside Dom, Morgan and Molly sitting across from us. Mitchell and Ryan, being able to recognize female anger when they see it, discreetly slid away slightly and got into their own conversation, shooting our group looks as they did. Scooting my plate away from my table space with a flick of my wand, I plunked my head down onto the table.

"Blimey, Abigail," said Molly. "What in the name of Merlin's long johns has got you so uptight."

I lifted my head to look at the mischievous Weasley girl. "Merlin's long johns?" I asked questioningly.

She gave a shrug. "Eh. I was trying out something new."

Shaking my head, I rested my head back on the table. At My lack of laughter at Molly's usually ridiculous attitude, my friends became even more worried.

Looking up from her copy of Hogwarts A History (2nd Edition), Morgan eyes me and said, "Seriously, Abigail, what's got you all gutted?"

I lifted my head and looked my friends with wide, crazed eyes. In a slightly hysterical tone, I said, "What's got me gutted? The whole beginning of this year has got me gutted, that's what! This was supposed to be my year! Then some stupid prat had to come along with his bloody Head Boy badge and annoy the knickers off of me and I can't sodding deal with it!" I said all of this in one breath, and I looked around my friends to notice they were completely silent, regarding me with careful expressions.

"He already managed to get your knickers off?" Molly teased with an evil smirk. "And I thought the Heads always hooking up was just a myth."

I groaned at the innuendo. When I moved to put my head down, Dom made the sudden movement of grabbing my elbow and hauling me up to stand with her. "Oh no, you don't." She said. "We are going to talk about this. Now!"

She pulled me along to the entrance of the Great Hall. As we reached the large door, Potter and Fred walked through, already searching for their mates eating at the Gryffindor table. I fixed a rather pathetic glare on Potter as we walked by, which he returned. Dominique ignored the fact that the cause of my hysteria was walking past us, but not without giving Fred, her fellow troublemaker and cousin, a fist bump. Dom escorted us into the hallway and dragged me down a deserted corridor, save for a few first years that she told to "_Scram!_" They obliged.

"Alright. Now tell me calmly…What is going on with you?" She asked me once we had come to a complete stop.

I got embarrassed when I thought about my rant in the Great Hall, and answered, "I'm just upset that once I've finally got what I've wanted since I was eleven – _eleven!_ – James Potter has to come along and ruin it for me."

"Then don't let him ruin it for you!" Dom exclaimed.

I looked at her questioningly. "…What do you mean?"

Dom sighed. "Look, all I'm saying is that it takes two to tango, Abigail." It was bad to hear it from James Potter but, coming from Dom's mouth, the phrase was oddly reassuring. "Okay, how do you think he's going to make this year hell?"

I was taken aback by this question. "Well… I dunno… he's already driven me up the wall with all the bickering he's done …"

"Exactly!" Dom cut me off. "If you stop bickering with him, then maybe he'll stop! And even if he doesn't stop, just don't engage. He'll give up eventually…trust me. He's my cousin. I know these things."

I took a deep breath. "You know what," I told her, "You're right! I shouldn't let him bother me this much. The control can be in my hands."

"Right!" She said excitedly. Then, her whole expression changed to a slightly desperate one and she said "Now can we please go back to breakfast because you interrupting my blueberry pancakes has really ruined this morning for me."

Laughing at her childishness, I looped my arm through hers, and we walked back to the Gryffindor table together.

Once we got there, I my eyes automatically caught those of James Potter. He was sitting next to Fred, who was bothering Morgan with reckless abandon as always, but Fred's eyes kept flickering over to Potter, as if making sure he was alright. I faintly wondered if Potter and Fred had a talk similar to mine and Dom's this morning.

After I took my seat, Professor Macmillan walked up to our section of the table and regarded Potter.

"Ah! James Potter! I have been wanting to congratulate you on making Head Boy!" Oh, of course. How typical, I thought. The golden boy getting his praise, when his co-head was right there, not being noticed at all…

"Your parents must be so proud!" Professor Macmillan continued. "Such amazing people, your parents. Harry Potter! The Chosen One! Hero of the Wizarding World! Oh, you are so much like your father, James. You are the spitting image of him… except for your eyes. You have – "

"Yes, I have my mother's eyes, I know." Potter did not say this unkindly, but he did have a rather odd expression on his face.

Professor Macmillan smiled at him. "Yes, well, we know the Wizarding World must be expecting great things from you, Mr. Potter… Well tell your parents Ernie Macmillan says hello! So proud they must be…"

I listened to the professor's rant with slight amusement. But after his rant was over, and I focused my attention on Potter, I saw something I'd never see on Potter's face, something I never thought I'd see him do…

He put on the smile. You know, _the _smile. The one you wear when you're feeling the complete opposite of what you show. The smile that just doesn't quite meet your eyes. The smile I wore when I encountered people who knew about my parents. The smile I used when they asked if I was okay, if there was anything they could do. I plastered on that smile and told myself, _Come on, Abigail. You can do it. Smile like you mean it. They'll never be able to know the difference…_

So, when Potter put _that_ smile on his face and said, "Of course, Professor. Thanks so much…" others might not have been able to see the falsity in it. But I could. I saw right through that smile, but couldn't quite break through his demeanor. I couldn't understand the feelings underneath that faux smile, no matter how hard I tried… It was really frustrating.

When Professor Macmillan walked away, Potter looked down to his plate. But when he looked up, I caught his eyes briefly. He stared at me blankly, with an expression saying "_I don't acknowledge your existence_"…an expression that had been directed at me many times before by James Potter.

But this time was different…because his heart wasn't in it. I just did not know why…

* * *

_A/N: Not a super long or super great chapter, but we get to see a little more of James' feelings and Abigail's reaction. BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!_

_Very exciting news! As we are also uploading Twisted Logic on Harry Potter FanFiction, we have recently had a title banner made by the wonderful 19sixtynine from The Dark Arts! (If you didnt know, HPFF is just that - a site devoted completely to Harry Potter fanfics. Also, The Dark Arts is an artistic site and their users make banners for HPFF!) _

_A link to the story on HPFF where you can see the banner is on our profile. We'll leave the link here too, but you gotta delete the spaces:_

**www. harrypotterfanfiction viewstory. php? psid =288910**

_We update here first, so this is a quicker place to get updates, but if you want to follow on HPFF too, thats even cooler._


	4. In My Place

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "In My Place" belongs to Coldplay.

* * *

**Chapter Four: In My Place**

"_I was lost; crossed lines I shouldn't have crossed…"

* * *

_

**Morgan Finnegan**

As usual, it was Abigail, Molly, Dominique, James, Fred, Mitchell, Ryan, and I sitting together in our section of the Gryffindor dining table in the Great Hall. I looked over at Abigail with complete envy. For what seems like forever, she and James have argued at almost every meal. Always. For the past three days, they have been at complete silence when together at the Gryffindor table. It seemed there was some sort of established cease-fire that the rest of us were unaware of. If only Fred Weasley could learn something from James…

Breaking from my thoughts, I focused back on my breakfast and tried to ignore Fred Weasley, who was currently talking my ear off, trying to make himself look incredibly cool.

"Yeah, I know, it's pretty amazing that I'm quidditch captain this year. It is highly unusual for a beater to be captain…but we all know how great I am at the sport, am I right, love?"

Turning to glare at the boy sitting next to me, I faltered slightly. Fred Weasley has been bothering me since my first year, convinced we're meant to be. The most annoying thing about it is I could never tell whether he was serious or if he just enjoyed making me feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. To me, either option made me angry. The first is because he was an arrogant prat who tried too hard to get girls. The second is because he's a prick who likes to tease girls. Either way, I've hated him since first sight, especially since we have nothing in common. He's the quidditch star who loves the attention and getting the girls. I was the bookworm who put her studies up there with friends and family. Because of our differences and the way he treated me, he would always be the boy I despised. But looking at him now, I did not see a boy, but a man. And it shocked me slightly. He was no longer awkwardly lanky and medium height with bad acne and a nose slightly too big for his face. He was now tall, muscular, and (though I hated to admit it) pretty flawless. Fred Weasley was attractive. _What the hell?_

I shook my head, as if trying to shake myself from a trance, and saw Fred staring at me with a stupid smirk on his face.

"What?" I asked reluctantly.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, his smirk growing, "It really is nothing. But please, do continue. People stare at my incredible looks all the time."

Glowering in annoyance, I turned back to my sunny side up eggs and tried to ignore the bloody prat sitting next to me. If only Fred Weasley's personality was the same as his good looks…

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

Have you ever been surrounded by complete silence and thought that the silence itself was louder than any noise ever could have been? That's what it felt like not bickering with James Potter. I was relieved our feud had quieted down a bit – for the sake of Head Duties and prefect meetings we ran together going smoothly. But it just didn't feel right. I just couldn't seem to get through the day without James Potter. I mean, arguing with James Potter. Without our fights, nothing seemed to feel correct. Everything was off balance.

That would change soon enough.

Molly was sitting to my left, and Potter was at my right. I figured if we were going to try to cooperate, we should be able to manage sitting next to each other. Both of our movements were stiff and uncomfortable. Seeing that I was still having a hard time with this "no fighting" nonsense, Molly mumbled to me, "Just wait a couple more days, Abigail. Maybe by then you two will have adjusted…" I shuddered at the mere thought of more days like this. How would I survive? Then, in a louder voice, Molly said, "Pass me the jug of cocoa will you, Abigail?" She always had a sweet tooth in the morning.

Grateful for something to change the focus of my thoughts, I reached over Potter's plate to the cocoa. But when I picked up the jug, it was scalding hot. Immediately I dropped the jug and my arm snapped back.

Into Potter's face.

So in addition to spilling scalding hot cocoa on both of our laps, Potter was clutching his nose, shouting profanities at me.

"Oh, get a grip, Potter," I spat, rolling my eyes. Of course, I would never admit to him that my thighs were burning. I'm talking second degree cocoa burns. I got up and started mopping up the table with some napkins.

He got up to do the same, still keeping one hand clutched to his nose. "You're a right klutz, King," he snapped at me.

Putting on an innocent tone, I said, "And who says I didn't mean to hit you in the face?"

Potter slapped down his sopping napkin and turned to face me. "You know what, King? If you spent half as much time being more careful as you do being a bloody nuisance, then maybe things like this wouldn't happen as much!"

"And waste all these special moments we have together?" I shot at him, sarcastically. "I don't think so!"

At this point, I should have realized that the majority of the Great Hall was watching our little spat. Fred decided to butt in. "Erm, guys?"

"Shut up!" Potter and I said in unison.

I continued. "Maybe if you stepped out of your little bubble, Potter, you would realize that not the whole world really cares what you think!"

"Guys…" Dom said nervously. We just ignored her.

"_My _bubble? Well, Your Highness, you should realize that not everyone will cater to your every need! I'm sure you've always been treated like the center of attention at home, _princess._"

Now that struck a nerve. Call me a bitch, princess, anything – fine. But bring up my home life? "Don't pretend for a second that you know what you're talking about!"

"Oh, really?" he said in his self-righteous attitude.

"Ugh! You sodding –"

"Guys!" Morgan shouted.

"WHAT?"

Our heads shot to Morgan, both breathing heavily. All she did was lift a weak finger, gesturing behind us. Slowly, we turned our heads, revealing a truly frightening sight.

"You two," said Professor McGonagall, through tightly pursed lips, "will accompany me to my office." She stepped back and gestured to the doors. "Now."

I numbly got up, barely noticing Potter do the same beside me. Looking around, I realized that everyone was looking in this direction. In that instant, I felt ashamed. After most of my fights with Potter, I usually felt anger, self-importance, and maybe occasionally, victorious. But shame was not a feeling I was accustomed to.

As I followed my headmistress out of the Great Hall, I could practically feel the Head Girl badge burning a hole through my robes. Soon the Great Hall blurred away, and I was standing in McGonagall's office.

She sat down at her desk with an angry flourish. "I do not even want to think about what just happened. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Potter spoke up first. "We're sorry, Professor."

"Yeah, it won't happen again," I added.

"The pair of you have been saying that to me for six years," she said. "But this year it is different."

"Professor?" I said.

"I was hoping that I wouldn't need to give you this speech," she said, "but apparently I was wrong. The behavior and language that I heard in the Great Hall was not that of Head Boy and Girl standards. I received much speculation after I nominated you both for the Heads positions. After all," she said, raising an eyebrow, "it is no secret that the two of you don't get along." I felt myself blush. "You are Head Boy and Girl. This school expects you to be its student leaders. The school needs you to stay in your place, as its Heads, and continue to lead the way you should."

I truly did not know what to say to that. I looked at Potter from the corner of my eye; he looked just as stunned as I was feeling. What are you supposed to say to that? My headmistress basically just told us that we were doing a crap job as Head Boy and Girl and that we needed to get our act together. But how am I supposed to do that with the guy I hate?

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

Disappointment.

I think that disappointment has to be one of my biggest fears. And considering the meeting that King and I had just had with Professor McGonagall, I was scared shitless. But that's the thing about disappointment, isn't it? When someone is disappointed in you, you don't _really_ get mad. You don't _really_ get scared. You just get more disappointed. In yourself.

Disappointment wasn't exactly a foreign thing to me, though. Being the son of Harry Potter, it comes often. When people first meet me, all they can do is anticipate all the great things that I could do. I'm Harry Potter's son, aren't I? I _should_ be able to do _great _things.

But after a couple weeks of me, people realize that I am nothing special. I am disappointing.

But as much as I'd like to think that disappointment had no effect on me anymore, it felt the same every single time.

"_The school needs you to stay in your place," _she had said. Great, so now not only was I letting her down, but I was also letting down the school. Letting them down because I wasn't being a good Head Boy. Something I'd wanted for six years.

Walking away from McGonagall's office, I felt that sink in my stomach - the uncomfortable feeling of displeasure. I couldn't even bother to care about the throbbing in my nose anymore.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

Shame.

That sneaky little emotion. It can eat away at a person like nothing else. But for me, shame was just the trigger feeling. For me, shame brought on guilt. Guilt about what I had done to make me feel ashamed. And then I would feel angry that I'm getting myself so worked up about it.

Quite the rollercoaster.

I looked over at Potter, seeing the thoughtful expression on his face, trying to distract myself. He was obviously thinking as hard about this lecture as I was.

But all I could think about was how McGonagall didn't think we were doing a good job. Now it was about more than just a stupid boy, his stupid ego, and his stupid possibly broken nose. It was the fact that something that I had wanted for six years – being Head Girl – was being jeopardized because I was too absorbed in my own issues.

I had to be a good Head Girl.

I had to do it for me.

I looked down at the Head Girl badge on my chest. The constant reminder that I had responsibility. The only real responsibility I've ever had in my whole life. Even at home, Uncle Matt was so ready to take care of me. To show me the kind of love and responsibility that a parent should show his child. Uncle Matt proved that he could be there for me, even when my parents couldn't. But that specific responsibility – that of a parent to a child – was something that I would never really see for myself. It was something Uncle Matt would never be able to show me.

Being Head Girl, being able to see the miraculous concept of responsibility right in front of me, was something I had always wanted. And now that I had it, I was doing a sodding bad job of it.

So, I was going to change this.

Not for McGonagall.

Definitely not for my co-Head.

Not even for my fellow classmates.

No. I was going to do _this _for me.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry about the long wait, guys. We really appreciate all the reviews and favorites and alerts you've been giving! It gives us the encouragement to keep writing._

_And on a side note, HOW EPIC WAS DEATHLY HALLOWS PT. 1? _

_Please leave a review for the chapter, or even if you feel the need to rant on aforementioned epicness! Reviews are love. _


	5. Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal

**A/N:** We're back lovely readers! Sorry the wait has been so long, but we have some _very _good news that will be in a fat author's note at the end of the chapter. So without further ado, chapter five!

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal" belongs to All Time Low.

* * *

**Chapter Five : Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal**

"_You stand a little too tall, say a little too much, gotta bite that know-it-all tongue…"_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I was sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts with Morgan, Molly, and Dom. Professor Durham was giving us a free study day (though I really just think he was moping about the last witch who broke up with him…he's constantly telling us about his relationship problems). So, I was talking about what had happened with McGonagall with my three best mates. After filling them in, they all looked at me with cautious expressions.

"What?" I finally asked them when I couldn't take the suspicion anymore.

"Oh, nothing," Dom told me. "Really. We're just wondering when you're going to get to the part of the speech wear you post the blame on my cousin."

I looked at Dom, slightly surprised by her bluntness. She didn't say it in a bitchy way, just blunt. Dom's always been one to say what she feels without much thought, but I guess I've never gotten used to it. At home, it seems as if Uncle Matt analyzes everything he says before he says it. Don't know why. It's not as if I'm really that fragile…

Focusing back on the matter at hand, I said, "I'm not posting the blame on Potter. I'm not saying it's not his fault at all, but I know I was a part of the problem." All three of my friends looked slightly surprised I admitted it. "What? It takes two to tango, right?"

Dom smiled at me then, knowing that's the advice she had told me a few days ago.

Morgan, who was analyzing the whole situation with care, as she always did, asked me, "So, what now?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. It's not as if I can be friends with the bloke. No chance."

My friends once again exchanged looks, but before they could say anything else, Fred walked up to our table, Mitchell Wood coming behind him.

With his trademark smirk in place, Fred slugged his arm around Morgan's shoulders and said, "So, you all ready for quidditch tryouts this weekend?"

Morgan shrugged Fred off. "Please, you know none of us are into that nonsense. Right guys?" Morgan looked to us, obviously hoping we would back her up in warding off Fred.

That didn't really happen.

I know, I know. What faithful friends we are.

I at least had the decency to put on an apologetic face when I said, "Actually, Morgan, you must be speaking for yourself. You know I'm a diehard quidditch fan." I hold up my book bag to make a point of my Holyhead Harpies patch I had sewn on.

"Yeah, speak for yourself mate!" voiced Molly. She shrugged at continued. "I'm a Weasley. Quidditch is our thing!"

Another student walking past us at this point must have heard what Molly said and exclaimed, "Weasley is our King!" before high fiving Fred, who was smirking, and walked away. Many jeers followed this student's words, causing all of us to laugh slightly. Once Fred became a star beater, Weasley is our King was revamped from Fred's family's quidditch days.

Fred, still smiling from our random classmate's outburst, walked around to Dom and placed his arm around her. "I really do think you're on your own here, love," he told Morgan. "After all, my favorite cousin here has to beat out all of the other beaters in order to remain my partner in beating crime."

Dom rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, you know I'm getting on that team…"

Fred automatically shushed her in a very theatrical way, whispering, "Merlin, Dom, don't let people here you say that! I have a reputation to uphold!" causing Dom to giggle at this.

Fred and Dom have always had a very special relationship. If you're thinking incestuous thoughts right now, just stop.

'Cause that's gross.

Fred, being the youngest in his family, has always viewed Dom as the little sister he's never had. Dom only has a younger brother, Louis, so she sees Fred as on older sibling also. Oh course, Dom, being the boy crazy girl she is, has to deal with Fred's protective older brother angst anytime she's with a guy and Fred is near.

It's quite hilarious actually.

"How about you, Wood? You finally gonna man up and try out this year?" asked Fred.

Mitchell laughed. "And give my father the complete satisfaction of his son following in his noble footsteps? I don't think so. And the next time he brings it up I'm going to interrupt and get into a deep conversation about classic Muggle literature."

Fred sobered slightly as this. "He's still talking you up about tryouts, then?"

"Like you can't believe…"

A moment of silence passed before Fred said, "Yes, well, you're better at looking pretty, sitting in a chair, reading… erm, what's some Muggle author…"

"Jane Austen," I blurted out which sent Mitch, Morgan, Dom, Molly, and I all into hysterical laughter, picturing Mitch curling up in a corner reading _Pride and Prejudice,_ while Fred sat there saying, "Wait, what?"

Just then, Potter and Ryan walked up to our table.

"Discussing tryouts, are we?" Ryan asked.

"But, of course!" Fred replied. "So you guys better rest up for Saturday. I'll be giving you hell."

"Why?" Potter asked. "You know we've been the best Chasers on the team since Teddy graduated."

"Yes, well, I enjoy putting you through hell for the fun of it."

The rest of class was filled with quidditch talk and jokes and laughs, but not one word to me from Potter.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

I was on Head Duties with my co-Head and the silence was killing me. I actually have no idea why King and I didn't talk after the whole incident in the Great Hall and the talk with McGonagall. We just didn't. The silence the flowed between us was filled with tension and slight awkwardness and as much as I wanted it to go away, I wasn't going to be the first one to talk. And I didn't.

The whole idea of Head Duties is to walk around the school, making sure no one is out after bedtime. The main intrusion of this rule that we find during out rounds is snogging couples. It's a pretty general thing. It's incredibly common for couples pick a time and place after bed time to get it on.

It just happens.

So, just as I was thinking about how much I hated the silence between me and King was, we heard whispers coming from a classroom as we passed. This pretty much broke the silence itself.

"I think we've caught someone…" said King.

"Yup," I whispered. "Probably another snogging couple."

She shot me a look. "Why are you whispering?" She looked genuinely confused. Poor child. Didn't she know the basic rules of humanity?

I looked around the dark lighting of the corridor we were in. "It's dark." I continued to whisper. "You're supposed to whisper in the dark."

Snorting at this, she grabbed my arm and pulled me up to the closed door of the classroom the voices were coming from. She cracked it open the slightest bit. I heard giggles coming from inside.

"Yup," I whispered. "Definitely a snogging couple."

King and I were about to burst in there, put on our super intimidating Head Boy/Girl faces, break the couple up, and give them detention when something was said from inside the classroom that sparked our interest.

"It's such a joke!" A hushed male voice was speaking. "As if they could ever work together! I mean look at Abigail King! She might be the most insufferable girl in Gryffindor house! She constantly thinking she's right all the time, too wrapped up in herself to think about others."

Woah. Now don't get me wrong, I despise the pants off of Abigail King…no one insults her like that but me. And what he was saying wasn't even true! She does think about others. All the time. I've seen how she's treated my cousins and Morgan. She cares for them. Who was this git?

King seemed to have the same reaction as me. Defiance and anger shone through her stormy grey eyes. She turned them to me and mouth, "_Who the hell is he_?"

I shook my head and shrugged, letting her know I had no idea.

But another voice cut in. "I know what you mean…I mean, I love my cousin, but what does he think he's doing?"

Betrayal and anger stabbed me in the gut when I recognized this voice. "Rose?" I whispered out to no one in particular. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw King look to me with shock written on her face, but my angry eyes stayed fixed on the door in front of me.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"Rose?"

I snapped my eyes to Potter in shock. Rose Weasley? Potter's cousin?

"There is no way that James is going to be able to get on with that Abigail King," continued Rose while I thought, _Oh, it's totally fine. You're totally welcome to put more loathing and disgust into my name, don't even worry about me you little fifth year…_

"Like I said, she is insufferable…" Rose's companion added.

And can I just say?

It made me feel oh, so good.

"Yeah, yeah I get that but really it's just pathetic for my cousin even to try," Rose backtracked. I sucked in a breath at this. "I mean, I've always been called the logical one in my family, and it's just illogical for my cousin to even think that this year will work out between the Heads. I mean, look at them already. It's practically useless…"

For some reason, anger burned through my being, and that anger was directed at the one and only Rose Weasley. I hate James Potter with all I am, but the way Rose is talking? That is _not_ the way to talk about your family. I guess I wouldn't really know in depth…Uncle Matt is the only family I've got…but I'd never talk about him the way Rose is talking about James.

_James? Since when did I call him James? I meant Potter. Potter._

I looked over at _Potter_ and oddly felt the sudden urge to say something to him. However, before I could even think up something to say, Potter stood up tall from his slightly crouched position and roughly kicked open the door. I heard a large gasp and a small shriek come from inside the classroom.

I followed Potter into the classroom to find him glaring at the pair. The boy with Rose Weasley was Scorpius Malfoy, a slytherin whom many Gryffindors, including James' brother Albus, were friends with.

I spared a look at Potter's face and found nothing. Not a trace of emotion. His eyes flicked over to me and I saw the slightest bit of betrayal shine in his eyes, but it was gone the second he looked back to his cousin and her … friend? Snog mate? Boyfriend?

Whatever. He insulted me. Numerous times.

Git.

"James…" Rose said shakily. "How long have you –"

"Long enough," I answered for Potter with a glare. Rose looked to me, for what I think must have been the first time and flinched.

She asked, in a small voice, "So…you must be –"

"The most insufferable girl in the Gryffindor house?" I asked sarcastically with a plastered on fake smile. I then raised my hands, as if in surrender. "You got me." I turned my glare on Scorpius Malfoy. He seemed to shrink a bit.

Good.

Potter seemed to have finally found his voice and, with large amounts of defiance and authority, said, "As I'm sure you know, you're both out of bed after hours."

Rose seemed pathetic at this point. "Yes, James. We do know and we're sorry, but if you could just – "

Potter ignored her and summoned them both detention slips with a flick of his wand. He handed one to each of the rule-breakers in front of him and said "Sunday. Eight o'clock."

"James…" Rose sighed, seeing he would not budge from his angered state. "Fine. But we will talk about this later, yeah?"

Rose must have been the bookworm type because she looked very upset to have a detention. Or maybe it was that combined with the fact she had just hurt her cousin to make her upset. Either way, it seemed to break past Potter's barrier.

He sighed, looking at his cousin. "Yeah, sure. Get to bed, Rosie."

She offered him a small, ashamed, yet relieved smile before scampering past us and out the door, followed by Scorpius.

Potter and I were now alone in the deserted classroom and the tension as thick as the silence in the air.

Trying to break the ice, I asked him, "Do you really think I'm the most insufferable girl in Gryffindor house?"

He just shot me a look.

I rolled my eyes and laughed slightly. "Of course, you think I'm the most insufferable girl in the world."

I expected him to either make a comment about this or just chuckle in that way of his he does so often, but he surprised me.

"You know…" He told me. "He wasn't right. You do care about those around you."

I stared at him in shock.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to snap at me, make fun of me, regard me as if I was walking scum, and here he was trying to make me feel better? Or defending me in a twisted way? It was kind of nice.

Potter broke eye contact with me, muddy brown disconnecting with stormy grey. "It's midnight," he said, pointing to the clock on the classroom wall. "We should probably head back."

He walked out of the classroom and started up to the Head's dorm.

I followed.

Potter was quiet, thoughtful, and slightly stoic. I was captured in my own thoughts as well, thinking of everything Rose and Scorpius had said about us in the classroom.

I don't know what brought me to do it (probably the frustration at the whole situation), but once we reached the fourth floor, I grabbed Potters arm, dragged him into a deserted corridor, and pushed him against the wall there in a slightly rough manner.

Potter seemed to be shocked by my actions and said, "Look, if you want a snog, you better look somewhere else because I'm not – "

"Oh shut it, Potter, as if I'd ever snog you. I brought you here because…well," I sighed. "Don't you think we should talk about this?"

Potter sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but really, King, I'm fine."

I widened my eyes slightly at this, feeling awkward. "Oh, well…I'm glad, I guess, but, um…I was more referring to the way they said we couldn't work together."

Potter's eyes widened as he realized the incredibly awkward situation he had unknowingly insinuated. In an effort that I guess was to break the awkwardness, James said, "Oh. Well, of course we can't work together. You're annoying. I hate you. We can't work together. It's quite simple really."

I grew defiant at this. "Yeah, well you're not really a breeze to work with either."

"Oh really?" He asked me with sarcasm. "Well maybe that has to do with the fact that my co-Head makes me want to scream."

"Or maybe it has to do with your arrogance, conceit, and big head you go walking about with!"

Potter exhaled in annoyance. "You know, I bet it wasn't hard for any of the Head Boys and Girls in the past."

"Well, it's alright," I said sarcastically. "You can sleep fine at night knowing that all of the blame is on you!"

"And you're saying you have nothing to do with the way people look at us as their Head Boy and Girl? With the way people think of us?"

"No, I'm saying that you ruin absolutely everything!"

Potter narrowed his eyes. "Well maybe if you would just stay out of my way –"

"Fine!" I exclaimed. "As long as you stay out of my way!"

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

I noticed that during our bickering, Potter and I had moved closer and closer together so that now we were practically nose to nose. We were both breathing heavily from shouting and getting so worked up by the other. Potter's brown eyes glared daggers into my own grey eyes. Being so close to James Potter made the rest of the world so quiet, but I couldn't understand why…

"OI! Jamsie!" At the loud, startling voice, Potter and I broke apart and looked to the side to see Ryan Thomas strolling up. Of course Ryan was out after hours. Ryan was the typical bad boy of Gryffindor house. The girls loved him. Even some Slytherins were unashamed to say they fancied a Gryffindor…as long as it was Ryan Thomas.

Ryan walked up to Potter and placed an arm around his shoulders facing me. Potter was tall, maybe a foot taller than me, but Ryan towered over Potter. I actually kind of hated standing next Ryan, just because I felt so tiny next to him.

"You guys looked pretty comfy over here in this oh, so seductive dark corridor of yours," Ryan said with a smirk that would put Fred Weasley to shame. "Did I interrupt something?"

I looked at Potter with a glare on my face and raised a brow. He did the same to me.

Ryan put on a serious face and regarded me again. "Oh, I get it. Do you have my boy James here on a midnight booty call or something?"

I smirked at the boys in front of me. "Of course, Ryan."

I leaned closer to Potter so I could speak directly in his ear, but loud enough for Ryan to hear.

"Keep the change, you filthy animal." I walked past the two boys, giving Potter a shove on the shoulder as I did. As I made my way to the Head's Dorm I faintly heard Ryan laughing in the background. Potter muttered a "_Shut up…"_ before following me.

Bummer. That exit would have been so much more dramatic if we weren't going the same place.

Oh, well.

I'm sure I'll have plenty more opportunities.

* * *

**Authors Note:  
**Thanks for hanging in there guys. We know the wait has been long but I think its worth it because... _Twisted Logic _is almost **entirely **finished! Right now it's looking like it will be about 26 chapters with an epilogue. We're so psyched to start posting all the chapters, and we thought we post weekly or biweekly... its up to you!

So review and tell us 1) what you thought of this chapter and 2) when you would like us to be posting. We could do it every week or every two weeks, and let us know which day of the week you guys would like too! We're so thrilled to start posting again, and now that the fanfiction is almost finished, updates will be regular again.

Tell us what you think!


	6. Anything You Can Do

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Anything You Can Do" is belongs to the musical _Annie Get Your Gun_. And probably a thousand other artists.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Anything You Can Do**

"_Anything you can do, I can do better. I can do anything better than you."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

The first month of school ended quickly, things remaining tense yet quiet between me and Potter. With the all the added pressure of NEWTs this year, there wasn't much time to worry about it. But lately NEWTs were all anyone was ever worrying about. I wasn't even sure what I wanted to do when I left Hogwarts. I had always imagined doing something in the Ministry, but I never really thought about other options.

I was pondering all this in the Heads common room, where all of my friends were currently lounging. At first it was just Morgan and Fred who knew the password to the dorm, but every day someone new would show up. After Morgan and Fred it was Molly and Mitch, and then Ryan showed up. Dom finally joined everyone one Wednesday when she burst into the dorm, yelling about how she attempted to follow the rules for once but "now that's all rubbish."

So now we were all sitting in the common room, changed out of our robes into jumpers and jeans, each of us stretched out on a separate couch or arm chair. Only, Potter was lying down on the floor in front of a book, and Morgan and Fred were sharing a couch…which was odd.

Everyone was reading a textbook or writing down some kind of work on parchment. It dawned on me that we were being ridiculously boring. I slammed my transfiguration book shut. Molly dropped her quill in surprise and Ryan jolted awake from where he was napping on his potions book.

I sighed. "Guys, what are we doing?"

"What do you mean?" asked Molly.

"I mean," I said, "it's Friday night. And we're all cooped up in the Heads dorm doing homework."

"We're such cool kids," Potter mumbled. Mitch groaned in agreement.

"We survived the first four weeks of seventh year… we need to celebrate," I said smugly.

"You know, she's right," said Dom.

"Yeah," Ryan said. "And I could use some waking up."

Morgan sat up on the couch. "But what are we supposed to do?" My face fell. I hadn't quite thought that far.

But then Fred stood up mischievously, and looked at Potter. "You still got your Dad's map, James?"

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

It took about twenty minutes for the eight of us to sneak down to the third floor without getting caught. I was leading everybody to the one-eyed witch statue and stopped.

"What happens now?" King asked. Her grey eyes were wide with excitement and anticipation.

I just chuckled and said, "_Dissendium." _The hump on the witch's back opened up to reveal a short slide. "Just go down the slide and that's where the tunnel starts.

One by one, we all slid to the bottom, taking in the glory that was the secret passageway. Since the guys and I had done this many times before, I let Fred take over explaining. "If we keep walking down this tunnel we'll be in Hogsmeade in less than half an hour."

"Hogsmeade?" Morgan gasped.

"Well, the Honeydukes cellar," Mitch added. "Specifically."

"Bloody brilliant," Dom said in awe. Molly kind of squeaked in agreement.

We kept walking for about twenty minutes until we reached the ladder that went up to Honeydukes. As soon as we climbed up to the cellar, Molly spoke up.

"But won't people recognize that we're students?"

Ryan shook his head and said, "Not really. On a Friday night there will be too many locals running about to notice eight students. Plus, none of us are underage so it doesn't really matter." That was stretching it a bit. We would technically be leaving school grounds without permission, but I hadn't been so Honeydukes in so long…

After a minute or two it was decided that Mitch, Ryan, Molly, Dom and I would go to the Hog's Head for drinks and Fred, Morgan, and King would stay upstairs to browse the rest of Honeydukes. Before the five of us left for drinks, Fred pulled me over with a panicked expression.

"Mate, what am I supposed to do?" he asked with wide eyes.

"What are you on about, Fred?"

"Morgan! Except for Abigail, we're practically here by ourselves!" He started cracking his knuckles, a nervous habit of his.

"You've been alone with her before, how is this any different?" I asked, confused.

"Well, I'm sorta trying to show her that I'm not a complete wanker…" he mumbled. I realized that it was possible that my best mate had some sort of serious feelings. It was a strange thing to behold.

"Umm…" I thought about his situation for a moment. "Do something that girls like. You know, something sensitive. Girls like sensitive guys, right?"

Fred's face lit up. "Thanks, mate. I owe you." He walked back to Morgan with a determined bounce in his step.

Leaving Honeydukes, it dawned on me that I didn't know anything about girls. If I did, maybe I wouldn't have as many problems with King. _Well, _I thought, _maybe Fred will survive._

* * *

**Morgan Finnegan**

"Oh, I could really go for a chocolate frog right now," Abigail commented, picking her way through a jar of random candies. I barely noticed her take a pound of candy to the front of the store to buy. I was so transfixed with all the sweets in front of me. I looked over and noticed Fred watching me.

"What?" I said, rolling my eyes. I prepared myself for some snarky comment or joke.

But all I got in return was a murmured, "Nothing," and he walked away from me, smiling slightly. To say I was curious at his behavior would be an understatement. I opened my mouth to press the issue when Abigail came back to us, her mouth already full of sugary delights.

"Hey," she said, giggling, "I'm thinking I might need something to wash this down. I'm going to go join everyone at the Hog's Head."

"Okay," I laughed, "we'll meet up with you all eventually." I realized that she would be leaving me alone with Fred. "You know, if I survive," I added.

She bid me goodbye and left the store, leaving me in front of a wall of licorice wands. I started counting them in my head silently.

Fred walked up to me and started to say something. I groaned and turned on him. "Weasley! You made me lose count!"

"Huh?"

"I was counting the licorice wands, and you made me lose count," I stated, matter-of-factly.

He just chuckled. "You're a strange girl, Morgan Finnegan." But when he said it, he got this weird twinkle in his eye. It wasn't a mischievous twinkle, but something I couldn't put my finger on. "Come on, let's go explore."

I explained to him that we had been going to Hogsmeade for four years now and that I was fairly certain we had found everything there was to find, but he simply took me by the hand and led me outside. The whole village was lit up, the sun having set hours ago. In all the times I'd been to Hogsmeade for school trips, we never stayed past sunset.

In a few minutes we stopped. It took me a second to realize that he had led me to Madam Puddifoot's.

Trying to ignore the odd tingling in my hand, I said bemusedly, "What in Merlin's name are we doing here?"

He turned to me innocently and said, "Something girls like." He scratched his head with a confused look on his face. "Don't…don't girls like Madam Puddifoot's?"

I tried to stop myself, but I couldn't help it. I laughed out loud. "Not this girl!" Through my uncontrollable giggling, I noticed that Fred's face fell. Then a thought struck me. "Fred, were you… were you trying to _impress _me?" I said, astounded.

"Pshhh. No!" Then his confident air seemed to deflate slightly. "Well, uh…maybe."

I'm sure I got a very dumb look on my face right about then. My mouth fell open and I just stared at him. But I also blushed. This wasn't an embarrassed, uncomfortable blush. No, this was a happy, flattered sort of blush. In fact, I felt warm all the way to my toes. And it was pleasant.

I snapped out of my state and smiled at him. He still looked very confused, but when I grabbed his hand, he looked more surprised than anything. I couldn't blame him. I was surprising myself.

"Come on," I said quietly. "Let's go to the Three Broomsticks."

"Oh, good," he exhaled. "I thought we were really going to have to go in that pink place."

I laughed as we walked away, feeling more content than I had in a while.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

By now my mouth was watering from all the candy I had eaten, and I needed a drink right away. But when I walked into the Hog's Head to join my friends, I only saw Potter sitting on a barstool, running a hand through his hair. There were a number of people in the pub, probably more than I had ever seen at one time.

I sighed, walking up to my co-Head. "Well?"

His head shot up in surprise, not expecting to see me there. "What?"

"Where is everyone?"

"They all left to meet Morgan and Fred at the Three Broomsticks about five minutes ago. Just missed them." He took a gulp of whatever he was drinking.

Desperate for some kind of drink, I swallowed my pride and sat next to him. I ordered a firewhiskey from the bartender and practically drank it down in one gulp, smiling at the familiar buzz of wizard's liquor.

Now, I wasn't much of a drinker, but in my past years at school, there was plenty of exposure to the drink at Quidditch victory parties, or random midnight parties in the girl's dorms. But I would always pay for it the next morning when I woke up with a pounding head and a weak stomach. Which really should have been some kind of warning for what would happen tonight.

Potter chuckled at my dramatic display of drinking. "Wow, you sure downed that fast."

I shrugged. "I was thirsty."

"I bet you can't drink two in a row," he said mischievously. He just sounded so damn sure of himself. One of the reasons I hated him. Also one of the reasons I called up the bartender again.

After another order, I proved that I could, in fact, drink two. Now I was feeling pretty buzzed. "Well," I said lightly, my hands tingling, "I _know _you can't down three." In my tipsy state, I knew that Potter had already been drinking before we started this. It kind of made me feel better that I knew he would be even drunker than me.

But he challenged me again.

I called him on it, and just challenged him back.

Thus began the longest drinking game of my life.

It could have been a half an hour, or maybe three hours, before the bartender kicked us out. The cool air of a fall night hit me in the face, but didn't succeed in sobering me up. Potter and I were stumbling around, trying not to look like drunken idiots and failing.

We didn't really have a destination, but we kept walking. "Bloody hell," I hiccupped. "To anyone who knows us, we would look like right idiots right now!"

Potter laughed harder than was necessary. "Or to anyone who doesn't know us!" I snorted with laughter.

"But really! Really, we're the House Heads!" I giggled. "I mean, student Heads! And here we are!"

"Drunk!"

"Drunk!" We both laughed uncontrollably. But then, we both seemed to realize something. Our laughter died down and we were silent.

"We're student Heads," Potter said slowly.

"Merlin!" I screeched. "What are we doing?"

"We're drunk…" he said sadly. "And McGonagall just told us to clean up our acts."

We seemed to be taking in our drunken realization in different ways. I was practically having a panic attack, and he just sat down criss-cross on the ground slowly, right in the middle of Hogsmeade, running a hand through his hair. I remembered that he looked so disappointed that I almost hugged him. Almost. I wasn't quite drunk enough for that.

"You know what?" I said, still slurring slightly. My head rolled sadly on my shoulders. "I should just turn myself in. Resign my post. Why did they give me this job anyway?"

I started to walk away when Potter stood up and said, "Oh no you don't."

"I don't see why– _Whoa!" _In the course of a few seconds, I had managed to trip over my own feet and be expertly caught by James. Erm, Potter. Even when he was hammered, Potter and his quidditch reflexes managed to catch me in his arms and let us fall back to where he was sitting just seconds ago.

So there I was, drunk me sitting in drunk Potter's lap. Whether it was our position or the alcohol, my face flushed bright red. "Thanks," I squeaked. I was hyper aware of the fact that Potter's arms were around me.

And he just stared at me.

I don't remember too much after that. I do remember just sitting on the ground with Potter when, eventually, our six friends emerged from the Three Broomsticks. I remember Dom and Molly laughing about the fact that I got drunk with James Potter of all people, and Molly scolding me through her giggles. I remember the painfully long walk back through the passageway, and walking into the wall numerous times. I definitely remember the splitting headache I got the next morning.

But most of all, I remember James Potter's face after he caught me. He looked like he was seeing me for the first time.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

After drinking a potion Saturday morning that Fred had given to me, I fought my hangover pretty well. King had it worse, though. The drought wasn't working as effectively for her and she was pretty out of it through the whole weekend. It was actually kind of awkward. We usually see each other over the weekend, mainly because her mates are friends with my mates. But there really is something awkward about being around someone who you've seen at their worst. And in this case, it was me being around Abigail King after I had seen her completely intoxicated.

So, the next few days were pretty quiet. Small talk in the common room. Mindless bickering. But, surprisingly, no blowouts came. I was almost thankful for that. Fighting your all with a person verbally really does take it out of you, if you were not aware.

On Monday, an odd think happened. Well, a few odd things really.

The first thing, Professor Whitem actually made us do something in class. He's one of those teachers who goes on and on about his own life, boasting about his accomplishments. The topic of his studies in Romania having to do with dragons comes up quite a lot. I don't know why the bloody hell Whitem is a Potions professor. If he thinks he's that amazing with dragons, he might as well be working with Uncle Charlie.

Anyways.

Professor Whitem making us brew an Elixir to Induce Euphoria was not the only surprising thing that happened that day. No, something else quite impossible happened.

Professor Whitem picked me to work with Abigail King.

It was actually quite humorous when he announced partners and our names came up. Really cliché. Gasps came from around the classroom, our friends looked at us to make sure we wouldn't set ourselves – or the other – on fire.

Okay, you might be asking why it's that big a deal. But, honestly, who in their right mind would partner King and I together? We might be Co-Heads, but it really is quite apparent we hate each other, yeah?

The weirdest thing about the whole situation was, King and I didn't even complain. No shouting, no requests for another partner, no looks of disgust. We just moved to our designated lab and sat down.

I know. I didn't really understand it either. Maybe King was still suffering from a massive hangover. Maybe I was too. Maybe the level of our drinking on Friday night damaged some pretty important brain cells.

"Alright, Potter," King stated in a bored tone. "We might as well get this done with. You break up these porcupine quills while I skin this shrivelfig."

Not bothering to argue, I went to the supplies table in the front of the room and got the materials I needed. When I got back to King, I started breaking up the quills, but for some reason my eyes drifted. I did not fully concentrate on the task. Instead I found myself focusing on…on her.

I'm not sure why my attention was drawn to her. Like I said before, maybe it was something to do with seeing a person at their worst. Whatever the reason, I found myself looking her over.

She really had changed over the years. She was not the same short, eleven year old with red braided pig tails and freckles speckling her face that I had met on the Hogwarts Express in my first year. However, she did acquire most of the same traits. She had grown over the years, but was still incredibly slight. I had to have been almost a foot taller than the girl skinning shrivelfig next to me. Her hair was just as red as it was six years before. Though her freckles remained, they seemed to have spread out across her body. Freckles adorned her face, in addition to covering the milky flesh of her arms. Some freckles were bigger than others. I was somewhat fascinated by them. I noticed she had two quite large freckles on the very top of her right hand. I started wondering where else these freckles graced her flawless skin. My eyes started drifting to King's legs, trying to investigate my questions about her freckles, but I stopped myself.

_What in the name of Merlin are you doing?_ I asked myself.

_ You're checking out Abigail King! _A voice in my head told me.

_No I'm not! I'm simply looking at her. And her freckles. That doesn't mean I'm checking her out. _

_ Lies!_

_ Shut up! She's Abigail King!_

"Potter!" Abigail's voice broke through my thoughts.

_Abigail? Since when did I start referring to her as Abigail?_

"What!" I shot back at her.

She gave me a look and then focused her striking grey eyes on my hands. "The porcupine quills are supposed to be in half inch pieces. You've broken them into smithereens."

I looked down at my hands, cursing when I saw she was right. I must have gotten a little carried away when I was battling my conscious.

"Right," I muttered, scooping up the grain size pieces and dumping them into the waste can beside me. "I'll just go get new materials and start over, then."

King sighed impatiently. "Hurry up, Potter."

Yeah. If only I weren't so easily distracted.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I waited while Potter was finished with the quills. We only needed that last ingredient to complete the potion and make it the sparkling yellow color it was supposed to appear. While I waited, playing with a glass beaker in my hand, I caught myself looking at him. I had felt him looking at me earlier. If he could look at me, I could look at him right?

He was bent over the lab, concentrating quite hard on the task before him. He also seemed quite irritated. I could see that the muscles in his back were tense through his shirt. He was also running a hand through his unruly hair, as he usually did when something was bothering him. I tried to find something, anything, in his eyes that might show what he was thinking. However, his eyes were down and focused on the quills. His long, dark lashes almost touched his cheek, and hide any hint of his chocolaty brown depths.

Just as I was trying to see his eyes, muddy brown shot up to look directly into stormy grey. My hands fumbled when James Potter looked at me…there was something in his eyes I couldn't define. Just as he looked over, the glass beaker fell out of my hands and, in what seemed like slow motion, shattered on the ground beneath my feet.

Ripping my gaze from Potter's, my eyes glanced down at the mess next to me and I let out a little, "Oh, bugger," before bending down to clean it.

Just as my hand stretched out to pick up the bigger glass pieces, a strong, long fingered hand knocked mine out of the way. I looked up with indignation at Potter, but he held up a hand.

"I'll do it. You finish up the potion," he told me as he bent down to clean up my own mess. My eyes softened slightly at this, not that I would let Potter see. It surprised me, actually. Though he would probably never admit it, Potter was being a gentleman. Weird, huh?

I grabbed the quills Potter had broken up and put them in the potion, stirring it until it turned the correct yellow color. I heard Potter mutter a quick "_Reparo" _beneath the table. He finished cleaning up the glass just as I had finished our potion. Now we had to wait until the rest of class was finished.

It was awkwardly silent for a bit, but I felt like I should say something to Potter. All I could muster up was a small "Thank you."

Can I just say – my goal was to break the silence and evaporate the awkwardness. And even though my attempt was useless at breaking the awkwardness, saying something polite to James Potter felt oddly gratifying.

Something like confusion or frustration crossed Potter's face, probably just a knee-jerk reaction to my previous statement, but he soon got rid of it. Instead, he plastered on his trademark smirk and turned to me, saying, "Yes, well if you had cleaned it up, you probably would have done it all wrong and cut yourself. I couldn't have you being all pathetic and fainting at the sight of blood. After all, you would have been too heavy to carry to the hospital wing."

That's where the gratification ended, and the bickering commenced. But, you know, it's one way to put an end to this incredibly odd situation.

Oh, yes. I highly recommend it.

* * *

A/N: Alright, so there's chapter six, in which they get drunk and start having weird, confused _feeeeelings. _

And we decided, with the help of some reviewers, that we'll be posting a new chapter every week on Fridays. Hope you liked the new chapter, please leave a review! It really keeps us going!

Until next Friday!


	7. Another Place to Fall

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Another Place to Fall" is belongs to KT Tunstall.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Another Place to Fall**

"_Well, I don't see no holes in the road, but you find another place to fall."_

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

Fred, Ryan, Mitch and I had just sauntered into Herbology class. If you don't know already, the four of us are best mates, and best mates do tend to sit together in classes. It's just a disestablished rule. I mean, really, who wants to sit in the corner with the awkward kid who takes turns between taking notes, doodling on their parchment, staring out the window looking for shapes in the clouds, and creeping on the complete stranger sitting next to them?

No one.

(And trust me, there's one of these kids in every class.)

Anyways, the four of us almost always sit with each other in class unless seats provide otherwise. For example, if there are no four open seats all next to each other, we would deal with pairs of seats and split up, or sit some behind others. As long as we are in a close, trouble-making-probable proximity to each other.

But sometimes, us four face the challenge of exile. Three seats next to each other. No pairs open. No back seats open. One of us has to be banished to a seat far, far away from the others, and none of us wanted to be that one. It was quite girly, really. It's like girls and their bathroom trips. What girl wants to go on a trip to the bathroom alone?

None.

Why?

I have no idea. Why do girls do anything they do?

Well that day, as the four of us walked into Herbology, we faced this hardship of exile. We stepped into the classroom and stopped, taking a look at the desks. The problem formed in all of our minds and we easily found the solution to the difficult equation before us. With one testosterone filled competitive glance at each other …

_SCRAM!_

All four of us ran to the seats in a group of three. We scrambled over loitering book backs, desks, chairs, trash and loose quills on the ground…and each other. I'm quite sure I stepped on Fred's heal, knocked off Mitchell's book bag, but was too far away from Ryan to injure him in anyway. He was pretty fast. We fell over each other to get into the seats. Since we had encountered this problem before, we established the rule that whoever's arse touched the seat first got that seat. Unfortunately, Fred tackled me before mine could touch my desired place of rest, and Ryan and Mitch had already taken their seats. I realized they were all looking at me smugly…

"_Bollocks…"_ I muttered. I stood and scoped out another seat in the class, ignoring my friends' teasing and mocking in the background.

There was only one seat left open other than the one next to Corner Kid. And of course…it was next to Abigail King.

Sighing, I shrugged my book bag higher on my shoulder, walked down over to King (who was sitting with my two cousins and Morgan), and plopped down in the seat next to her. When I did so, she looked at me, almost looking alarmed.

"Potter," she asked me. "What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing?"

I gave her a bright smile and replied, "Well, I was just getting so sick of my friends and decided I wanted to spend this class with the most insufferable person I know. Congratulations! If only I had a badge you could wear…"

She rolled her eyes at this. "You're starting to sound like your cousin Rose."

I grimaced at this. King noticed.

Trying not to sound too concerned, but sounding truly curious, King asked me, "What ever happened with that? I mean…Are you guys okay?"

I gave her a look. Abigail King was worried about my relationship with my cousins? Is hell freezing over?

She hurried her response to my look. "I mean, I was just wondering considering you and your family are so close and I think the whole school would believe the apocalypse was on its way if the Weasley's and Potters were on bad terms."

Well, she had a point there.

"Yeah," I replied to her. "I mean, we're okay now. I talked to her the day after it happened and she said she was really sorry…for, you know, doubting me or whatever. She sounded pretty genuine about it. She said something about wanting to impress a boy." I chuckled.

She gave a small smile. "Well, I'm glad everything's fine."

I found myself smiling back. "Yeah, me too." A thought occurred to me. "Did you ever mention it to Dom and Molly?"

She sighed and shrugged. "Nah. I didn't want to cause Rose any trouble. You know Dom and Mol. They wouldn't just take it lying down. I didn't want to start anything."

That surprised me. "But Rose said some pretty awful stuff about you…"

"Yeah," she agreed, nodding slowly. "Call it stupid or just my strange faith in humanity, but I'd like to believe that there was more to it than that. And I guess there was." She mock-flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Us girls will say just about anything to impress a guy. Besides," she added. "She's your family."

There she went, surprising me again. I opened my mouth to respond, a thank you or something along those lines. Just then, Professor Longbottom (or just Neville to me and my family) started the class. We would be doing work in pairs. Usually this wasn't a problem for me because I would work with Fred and Mitch and Ryan would work together. When I was banished that day, I decided I'd just ask to move my seat to work with my partner. However, Fred decided to be incredibly difficult today. I was literally on my way to his seat when I bumped into him.

He looked to me, then to his seat he was leaving, and then back to me. He gave me a stupid grin. I'm not being mean, but it's really the only way I could describe the way he looked. "Where ya goin'?" he asked me.

I gave him a look, shot back the same goofy expression and said, "To your seat."

He looked confused. "Why?"

I just gave him a look. For an amazing pranksters mastermind, Fred really did have his blind spots. "Are you serious? Mate, we always work together. I was on my way to your seat to work with you."

He nodded, like he understood, but then abruptly shook his head. I was confused. "Yes, well, you must know I love working with you Jamsie. I really do. Your company is impeccable. However, I am taking this class to woo my woman," he told me, looking towards Morgan. She was about to get up and move to Abigail's seat, obviously to be partners with her since my two cousins Dom and Mol were already working together. Seeing this, Fred clapped his hand on my shoulder and said, "Well, good luck finding a partner mate." He made a pointed glace behind him where Mitch and Ryan were already starting their work. "Why don't you work with Abigail? She's looking pretty lonely. And if I do say so myself, you two make an adorable couple." He dashed away towards Morgan before I could slap him upside the head. Not seeing a point against it, I took Fred's advice.

I plopped down in the seat beside Abigail King the second time that day. No talking took place. I just glanced over at her looking at me questioningly. I raised my eyebrows, and she looked around the classroom, looking for other possible partners. She sighed, and turned back to me nodding.

Did I just have a silent conversation with Abigail King?

Intriguing.

"Can we use your book?" King asked me. "I left mine in the Common Room."

"Sure."

I was getting my Herbology textbook out when King and I both turned our attention to the bickering coming from the desk across the aisle.

"No I am not doing this whole thing by myself!" Morgan snapped at Fred. "Honestly this is a _partner_ project. Not an individual one. We're meant to work _together."_

"I know, love," Fred soothed her. "But, honestly do you think any work I do will get us a decent mark?" Morgan seemed to consider this before the bickering restarted.

King laughed beside me. "How he convinced her to work with him, I have no idea."

I laughed too. "He was quite determined."

King seemed to sober a bit. "What I really don't understand on why Fred is so intent on bothering Morgan all the time. Maybe if his intentions were genuine…" She broke off, looking at me, obviously looking for answers.

Uh-oh. This could go two ways. I was pretty sure that Fred actually had feelings for Morgan. He had never said it up front, but he's also never been so intent on any one girl before. However, if I told King this, Fred would kill me. On the other side, if I told King something she didn't want to hear (I don't know what she wants to hear most of the time anyways…girls…) then she might kill me. But I figured that Fred is family and I can't risk his trust. So, I picked this side:

"I think Fred's just having a bit a fun. He gets a laugh out of aggravating Morgan. It's simple as that."

I waited for the explosion and…

Boom. "Are you serious?" King asked scathingly. "Does he even understand how that could hurt Morgan? What if she was taking him seriously? What if she actually had feelings for him and got the wrong idea?" This perked my attention.

"Morgan has feelings for Fred?" I tried to make it sound like I was asking out of pure curiosity.

"That's not the point!" She shot at me. "The point is that Fred, who is usually a great person and friend, is being a great prat and doesn't even know it!"

I smacked the table in front of me and turned to King with anger filled eyes. "Hey! Don't call Fred a prat!"

King shouted right back. "Fine! I will when he stops being one to Morgan!"

"I told you!" I glared. "He's just having a bit of fun!"

"Yeah well he could hurt my best mate! I know that doesn't concern a twat like you but –"

"ENOUGH!" a voice bellowed.

The volume of our fight had only increased since we started yelling and we had the attention of the whole class at this point. King and I looked up to Neville, whose voice had just rang loudly through the class, lingering beside our desks. He shook his head with a resigned look on his face. Looking around the room, I saw Morgan looking at us with her mouth agape in disconcertion.

Neville's eerily calm voice snapped my gaze back to him. "You two will finish you classwork and sit the rest of the class in silence. You are to stay after class with me. We will discuss this." His eyes seemed to soften a bit. "I really hate to have to do it, James and Abigail, you must know I do. But it has to be said by someone." Leaving us confused, he walked back to his desk without another word.

The rest of the class was silent.

* * *

**Neville Longbottom**

I watched as my students fled out of my classroom and headed to their next classes. All except for two…

I walked up to the desks James Potter and Abigail King were sitting at as they started to stand. "Sit." I told them, and they obliged.

Looking at the kids before me, I sighed slightly. They had no idea of the mess they were in. And they were such great kids too. I had grown exceedingly close to Harry since the end of the war, and spent many holidays at the Potter's parties while James was growing up. And I've been very close friends with Abigail's Uncle Matt since our Auror days after the war. We still keep in touch since and I try to visit as much as I can. James and Abigail were amazing kids brought up by amazing families, even though Abigail family's past was somewhat difficult.

I noticed the two people of my thoughts were giving me quite strange looks and I had the decency to blush. Here I was, supposed to be disciplining my students and all I can do is stand here stupidly…

I cleared my thought. "Alright." I said. "I'm not quite sure if you two even know why you're here but…"

Abigail interrupted. "We know why we're here, Neville, and we're terribly sorry about our row in class today…" she trailed off guiltily.

James looked slightly shocked by her informality towards me, clearly not aware of my friendship with her uncle. He recovered shortly after his eyebrows shot up and put in his cents worth. "Yeah, I'm really sorry, Neville. We'll keep it under control next time, I swear."

"That you will," I told them with the most authority I could. "But you're not going to do it for me, you're going to do it for yourselves"

They gave each other glaring looks before turning to me questioningly.

I let out a noise of exasperation. "You two are really not aware of the boat you're in, are you?" I asked them, but they just stared at me with confusions and shock in their eyes. Neither one of them has seen me like this before. "You're Head Boy and Girl!" I told them. "The leaders of our school's students! Role models to all! And do you see the way you two behave?" They both looked down guiltily.

Good.

"I'll tell you how you behave," I continued. "You two behave like the opposites of a Head Boy and Girl. You pull pranks." James winced slightly at this, knowing it was mostly directed at him. "You scorn against others to easily." This was noticeably directed at Abigail. "And more than anything, you make scenes and fight and bicker publicly. Is that how you would have wanted your role models to act?" I asked them, but was met with silence.

I sighed once again. "People are, for the first time in my entire history at Hogwarts, doubting the Head Boy and Girl." Both of their faces shot up with hurt in their eyes. "Teachers, students, there has been quite the amount of talk. I'm not one of those people though. I don't' doubt you." They both smiled at this. "But I am embarrassed for you. I'm embarrassed you haven't seen this problem before and I'm even more embarrassed that you haven't tried to fix the way you have been acting."

Guilt, hurt, and self doubt flooded the pain in their eyes as they looked straight at me. "You both must know how hard it is for me to say this to you. I think of you both highly, and I have been so close to your families for years. Close to both of you for years. But someone had to let you know what's been said about you in this school, and I think your ears would listen to me rather than the Headmistress. I'm telling you this because I care about you. Both of you. And I know you need to hear it."

I was done with my speech. I felt I had said all I needed to say. However, my heart was breaking at the faces before me. I was no longer the pansy people believed I was in my Hogwarts days – the war had changed that factor of me – but making those close to me hurt was one thing I would always be a coward towards.

James was shaking his head, seeming to have a hard to finding something to say. "Neville, I…"

But I cut home off. "Don't, James," I told him. "There's nothing you have to say to me. You have nothing to apologize for, nor do you have anything you have to say to me. But you do need to find a way to be civil to each other. I'm not saying you have to be best mates," the both snorted at this, "but not making scenes by shouting matches in the Great Hall would be a step up." This just made them look guiltier.

"Fix this. For yourselves. Hell, make this your homework instead of that two foot essay I assigned. But I swear if you can't fix this, I will fail you both," I told them, but smiled to let them know I was only kidding. They laughed slightly, whether they thought it was truly comical or because the tension had cleared.

Seeming to sense that our talk was almost over, Abigail stood and gave me a hug. I embraced her back as I had many times before at her birthday celebrations and Christmas get-togethers.

"Thank you, Neville," she told me. It confused me slightly, and I wasn't sure what she was thanking me for. But if I was getting her thinking, I wasn't going to question it.

"You tell your uncle I say hello. Oh, and tell him to start growing in some grey hair. He's making me look old." She laughed at this before nodding.

James had gathered his stuff while I was talking to Abigail, obviously feeling awkward. I clapped my hand down on his shoulder and told him, "Say hello to your mum and dad for me. Oh, that reminds me, I've got to send your parents those pictures of last year's New Year's party I took with the camera your grandfather gave me." I walked over to my desk and wrote down a memo, tripping over some loose plants as I did. James and Abigail were trying not to laugh at my clumsiness.

"Hey," I told them. "I'm still your teacher. You laugh, you fail." This just made their laughter more pronounced. Handing them their late passes to their next class, I waited until they sobered to say, "Think about what I said, yeah? It'll do you more good than me, really."

They both nodded, took their passes before saying goodbye, walking out my classroom's door to their next class.

I sighed as I watched them go. I really hope they did change their ways. They would make such a good team as Head Boy and Girl if they did. I just knew it. Maybe they'd make good friends, too.

Sitting back on my desk chair, I reclined my legs.

I smiled slightly and thought, "_All in a day's work of Neville Longbottom_…"

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

Potter and I walked to Potions in complete silence. Of course, when we got there, there were only two seats next to each other in the back that were open. We gave Professor Whitem our late slips before taking our seats. I felt as if everything I did was a blur going on around me. I was so focused on the thoughts in my head that every move I mad seemed mindless. Neville's words swirled around in my mind.

_"Role models to all!"_

_"You two behave like the opposites of a Head Boy and Girl."_

_"People are, for the first time in my entire history at Hogwarts, doubting the Head Boy and Girl."_

_"I'm embarrassed for you."_

Neville's words hurt me, but not as much as my ignorance had. I was so blinded by the aggravation and hate I felt towards James Potter that I did not realize that the way we were acting was completely barbaric. We had an example to set, and we had let down our teachers and students by acting the way we had. But more than that, I had let myself down. At the very beginning of this year, I told myself I would face any problem I faced, even if it was in the form of a seventeen-year-old boy…but I had failed myself. And I was ashamed of myself.

I think it was this shame that grounded me. It woke me up from whatever stupor I had been in and I realized something had to be done.

But what? And how?

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

Nothing can compare to being a disappointment to one of the most honorable people in your life.

If anyone ever asked me who my role model was, I would without a doubt say Neville Longbottom. I wouldn't have to think about it for a second. It would be a knee-jerk reaction.

Many people would expect me to say my father, because he is, after all, a hero. And I really do admire my dad for that. He's an amazing figure in Wizarding World history…but I cherish him more for being my dad. For playing quidditch with me in the yard. For raising me to be the person I am.

But Neville…Neville has done so much too. I'd heard stories about Neville in his school days, where people thought of him as a coward and a wimp. But he rose against those stereotypes and became a war hero, incredibly brave, an Auror, and now an amazing teacher at Hogwarts. Him fighting those labels and his ignorance of all people said about him in order to achieve what he had made Neville my role model.

How would you feel if your role model just waltzed up to you and told you that they were embarrassed for you.

You'd feel like complete, utter crap.

And this is why I knew something had to change. I had to pull the white flag with Abigail…at least a closeted white flag. I would talk to her soon. If people were labeling me as a bad head boy, than I had to fight it. After all, this might be the only stereotype of mine that I would ever be able to fight. I would always Harry Potter's son. You can't pick your family, and I wouldn't change them for the world. So if I'm always going to be viewed as their kid, I might as well make them proud.

And you know what? I'd like to be proud of myself, too.

* * *

**A/N: **I was so excited to post that I stayed up until midnight. So it's technically Friday! Anyway, got a nice new POV in this chapter! Hope we did Neville justice...

ALSO! I seriously recommend looking up this chapter's song "Another Place to Fall" by KT Tunstall. First, its perfect. And second, it does a really good job describing their feelings towards each other up to this point.

Please review! I see there's a new funky review box down there...


	8. Perfect

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Perfect" belongs to the band Simple Plan.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Perfect**

"_Nothing's going to change the things that you said. Nothing's going to make this right again…"_

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

It had been a couple days since Neville's talk with King and me. The two of us hadn't really talked about it, but when I thought about it my stomach would always drop. I knew Neville wasn't trying to personally offend me or anything, but it was basically a slap to the face.

King and I had been quiet towards each other in these past couple of days. Normally she would leave when I entered the room, or I would make sure she wasn't where I was going. But right now, I was going to Charms, where she was inevitably going too.

We met at the door. I noticed that she had pulled her hair back in this complicated braidy-twisty thing. It made her grey eyes look bigger. It was kind of pretty.

Instead of going inside, Abigail just sort of waited at the door. She looked like she was about to say something, then shook her head and stopped. I looked at my feet. One of my shoe laces was untied. Should I say something? I opened my mouth, but closed it when I saw Fred and Morgan walk up.

Fred and Morgan weren't even in our class…so what were they doing here?

I noticed that they both looked a little distraught, especially Morgan. Fred seemed to sense this too and had a comforting hand on the small of her back. For some reason, Morgan didn't seem to mind.

Morgan turned to King with a determined gleam in her eyes. "Abigail, I think we should talk for a minute."

King shot a questioning look at me but I just shrugged. They walked to the end of the corridor and huddled together.

"Mate, we gotta talk too," Fred said. He sighed like he wasn't looking forward to this talk at all. I wasn't exactly thrilled about all this mysteriousness, either.

"What's up, Fred? Everything good?" I asked him hesitantly.

He sighed again. "Well, Morgan and I were talking about that fight you had with Abigail."

"The one in Herbology?" I asked. I hadn't really remembered that we had fought. The only thing that stuck out was our talk with Neville. "That was a couple of days ago, mate."

"Yeah, well it was kind of about us." He rubbed his neck irritably. "And I don't think you should be talking about Morgan…or me…. and especially not my intentions."

I was shocked. "Mate, I –"

"And I'm not just messing with her. You know how I feel about her." He gave me a meaningful look. Of course I knew how he felt about her. I'd never seen him like this before.

"Fred, I'm really sorry," I said, lowering my voice. "I do know that you like Morgan, I wasn't trying to say that you don't. I just didn't think you would want me telling King all about it…It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Fred sighed again. "S'alright, James. I'm not mad at you or anything." He shot me small smile. "I think that I've got a good thing going with Morgan now."

I clapped him on the back. "Good for you, man."

After that, Fred seemed grateful to have the confrontation out of the way and started talking about the last quidditch practice. I offered some "yeahs" and "uh-huhs" to show that I was listening, but my mind was running in circles.

Usually my fights with King had no outcome except for a glare or two between the two of us. But this time, two of my best friends were hurting because of it. I felt my stomach tighten like it had when Neville scolded us. I had to do something about this.

Because I was tired of feeling like such a prick.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I followed after Morgan to the end of the corridor. Morgan was biting her nails, which wasn't a good sign for me. Morgan only bites her nails when she's about to make a confrontation and she's nervous about it.

At the end of the hallway she faced me. She nodded her head in determination and said, "Abigail, Fred and I have talked a lot about this, and I realized that I don't appreciate you talking about our relationship with anyone without talking to me first. Especially because your argument with James implied that I couldn't take care of myself and that Fred doesn't care about me." Her voice shook at the last part and I realized that she had tears in her eyes.

I quickly tried to interrupt. "Morg, sweetie –"

She shook her head. "No, let me finish. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm a big girl, and even though it means the world to me that you care about me so much, I can handle Fred. He's been really nice to me the past couple weeks and I'm trying to see where it goes." She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"Morgan, I am so completely sorry." I shook my head, ashamed. "I had no right to talk about you and Fred like that. I just got so caught up in my fight with stupid, _stupid _Potter that I didn't realize what I was saying."

Morgan looked much better now, seemingly pleased that we were still on good terms. Sometimes I forgot how strong Morgan was. She was probably the most mature out of all of us, but the most vulnerable too. I knew from my friendship with her that when she gets sad, she can get really sad. When she's mad, she could feel furious. And when Morgan feels betrayed, she feels it stronger than anyone I know.

Morgan felt more than I had ever seen anyone else feel about anything. That's probably why I was so protective of her. But that's also why she's such a great and kind person.

"He's really not that bad, you know," Morgan said tentatively.

"I know. I know he's not Morgan. Fred _has _been so nice to you recently and if he's that great to you –"

Morgan cut me off with a quiet laugh. "I know Fred's nice, Abigail. I was talking about James."

My mind said "_Whaaaaaa?" _but my mouth didn't say anything. I think I might have been in shock. James Potter isn't that bad? What does that even mean?

"You know, maybe you could give him a chance. Oh, I'm just so glad that you aren't upset with me. I thought you might be mad." She quickly pulled me into a hug, my brain still fuzzy from her comment.

I hugged her back and looked over her shoulder. Potter was nodding absentmindedly, apparently humoring Fred. All of a sudden, he looked over at me. I squeezed Morgan even tighter, seeing in Potter's eyes that he was disappointed too. We had both hurt our best friends with our last fight. I nodded, and finally had the strength to break eye contact.

I had just had another silent conversation with James Potter.

That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

* * *

A couple of hours after dinner, I did my prefect rounds. Which I guess weren't really prefect's rounds because I wasn't a prefect. Anyway, I was in a deserted corridor on the third floor when a hand shot out of a broom cupboard and pulled me in.

Now, my uncle was an Auror so you could say that I was brought up to be careful. Within seconds I had the person's hand in a vice-like grip and my wand to their throat.

"Merlin, King, I'm not a Death Eater!"

I rolled my eyes and lowered my wand from Potter's throat. "I _knew _you wanted to snog. You don't have to assault me," I said with a sarcastic wink.

"Cut the crap, King. I pulled you in here for a reason," he said, glaring at me, even though I could have sworn I saw his cheeks get a little pinker.

"Then hop to it."

"It's about Fred and Morgan."

I sighed, even though I knew that this was coming. I dropped the sarcastic act that I always seem to put on default around Potter.

"Look, I know you can't stand me, and believe me, I can't stand you either, but something in this situation's got to sway." _Really, Potter? Got to sway?_ "We're hurting the people around us… the people who are most important to us… without even knowing it."

I nodded at this. "I know. And I agree. We have to change it."

"Then, good. We're on the same page." He ran a hand through his perfectly unruly hair (if that makes sense. And if you don't think it does, you've never seen James Potter's hair). Potter's voice broke me from my thoughts about his hair.

"So, I have a proposition for you." I raised my eyebrows at this. "Can we just…I dunno, lay low, I guess? I mean not all of our fights have to be public, you know…" I automatically thought he was pinning this on me and I rose to the occasion. As I opened my mouth in indignation, but he hurriedly silenced with a waving hand. "No, no, no I didn't mean it's your fault." _Potter's being nice? _This made me think about what Morgan had said to me, but I quickly shook my head to clear my thoughts and focused back on what Potter was saying.

"…so we could just make sure that when we start our little spats…because, face it, it's inevitable…we could just participate in them quietly. And privately."

Okay. Potter looked extremely uncomfortable and it was incredibly humorous. His hands seemed to be connected to his hair or the back of his neck, and his eyes darted around nervously. I was guessing that my elongated silence put him on edge. I thought maybe I should say something.

Oh, but I loved to make him squirm.

So, he kind of just kept on going, saying what he thought our new fighting game plan should be. I tried to keep my face straight, I really did, but my mouth quirked at the corner. Potter didn't seem to notice this and just kept on talking. I couldn't help it anymore and threw my hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh.

The urge to laugh died quickly.

It was then, with my hand over Potter's soft mouth, that I realized how incredibly tiny the broom cupboard we were in was. I was less than a foot from Potter's face, which might seem like a lot of space, but you don't know how small it is until you actually experience it. His eyes bore into mine with a hidden emotion mixed with frustration. As I pondered this situation, my smile slid off my face slowly, but I made no need to move from Potter.

Suddenly, Potter put his hand on my arm, his eyes seeming to darken as he did. Without warning, he slowly pushed my hand off of his mouth and stepped farther away from me, his back touching the wall of the broom cupboard. He looked at me, obviously expecting me to say something, but looking like he had already forgotten the oddness that just happened.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry…" _What was I apologizing for, exactly?_ "You just…you kept talking and…" I let out a laugh, which came out in a slightly nervous manner. "You just looked very uncomfortable. Just…sorry." When I said this, I had a small smile on my face. I was thinking of how adorable Potter had looked when he was so uncomfortable. I shook my head and lost the smile. This was a serious conversation, I reminded myself.

"Honestly, King," Potters voice rang as he shook his own head. "Can you not take a single situation seriously?" He somehow did not say this unkindly.

"No really, I was," I told him. "I am. And I understand what you mean. Quiet fights. No making scenes. Keep bickering in private. Got it."

Potter became visibly less tense at this, his discomfort leaving his rigid body completely. "Good. So we have an agreement?" As he asked this, he put his hand out.

I put my own hand out and we shook on it.

"Indeed we do, Potter."

* * *

Later than night, I was in my room studying for the History of Magic exam I had the next day. I was completely unfocused (as I usually was when I tried to study) and I was starting to feel sick. I hoped I hadn't caught a virus or something. Fortunately, my thoughts of a certain James Potter and my agreement with him distracted me from my achy stomach and stuffy nose, in addition to distracting me from my studies.

I had mixed feelings about this agreement. It was slightly confusing, actually. I was almost relieved that we had agreed to keep our bicker-fests on the down low, for more reasons than one. Obviously I was happy that this would prevent us from hurting our friends, like we had with Fred and Morgan. In addition, if everything worked out fine, we would also appear to be the perfect Head Boy and Girl. This way, people would finally stop doubting us, as Neville had told us. However, I was also relieved just because sometimes I didn't really want to fight with Potter.

I didn't have the energy, it didn't seem worth it, it's petty. These were all reasons why I disliked fighting with Potter. I knew we'd still fight, but maybe this agreement would make it a bit better. But I was also worried. I was worried that Potter would think we were all "buddy-buddy" now. And that'd just be weird.

This particular thought consumed me as I looked blankly through my History of Magic textbook. Why exactly would it be weird to be friends with James Potter? Obviously, it would be quite contrary to our usual, but what was truly bad about it? Did I want to be friends with him? I small voice in the back of my head started shouting things at me.

_Yes! Of course you should be friends with him!_

Morgan's voice joined the voice yelling at me.

_"He's really not that bad, you know."_

I shook my head, ignoring these thoughts. No. I hated James Potter. I was destined to hate James Potter. But even as I told this to myself, I felt like I was trying to convince myself, not telling the truth.

Standing up, I slammed my textbook down on my desk and stomped to the door of my bedroom. I was going to clear this up once and for all and tell Potter the agreement did not mean we were friends. I yanked my door open and stepped into the common room to see James walking out of his bedroom across the room from me.

It was quite comical, actually. Just picture two enemies standing across the room from each other, not making a hint at moving. I felt like we belonged in an American Western film with cowboys and showdowns.

I suddenly wondered if James had been thinking the same thing in his room, maybe even while studying for History of Magic. Either way, he looked like he had something to say to me.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

I know. My intuition is impeccable.

"I need to talk to you, too," I told him.

Neither one of us moved from our locations across the room from each other, standing outside our bedrooms.

"Ladies first," he told me sarcastically.

I cleared my throat and stood up taller, preparing myself for the speech I was about to give.

"Alright," I said. "Okay. Well, I wanted you to know that while I think our agreement is a very good one that will definitely work out to our hopes to stop being pricks to our friends, you need to know that you are not, be any means, one of those friends to me."

He lifted his eyebrows and said, "Sorry?"

"You're not my friend, okay?" I told him, feeling exasperated and slightly awkward. It wasn't something you just blurted out to people on an everyday basis. "I'm not your friend, you're not mine. This agreement doesn't change that, yeah?" I felt the urge to run a frustrated hand through my hair as Potter had done so many times in the past, but fought against it.

"Absolutely," Potter replied to me coolly. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"I dunno!" I felt like screaming, but I kept my volume down. "I just wanted to clear it up."

"Great. Anything else you feel the need to say?" He was teasing me now, and not in a friendly manner.

"Yeah!" I exclaimed, thoroughly annoyed by his attitude. "You're a prick! And you're annoying! I just come in here to clear something up with you and you have to patronize me!"

Potter rolled his eyes. "Oh, well, sorry. It's not every day someone comes up to you just to let you know that you aren't their friend."

I lifted my chin at this, trying not to feel embarrassed by the truth he had stated, but I felt blood rushing to my face anyway. "Well, it's true. You aren't my friend."

Potter snorted at this, but a look in his eyes told me he was frustrated, exasperated, and almost tired by this conversation we were having. "Obviously," he told me. "We've hated each other for years. You displayed your hate to me through the years in many ways. None of our interactions have been friendly. Why would you feel the need to clarify we aren't friends if you've always hated me."

"I just did. And you're right. I do hate you. Always will."

"Okay." Potter seemed tired of me now.

"I hate you." I felt the need to point it out once more. But what I heard back from him surprised me more than anything could have at that moment.

_"Why?"_

I was shocked by two things. First, the fact that Potter had even asked this. We never discussed why we hated each other. It was just the natural way of things. An unspoken pact. But I was shocked by more than this. It was the way Potter said this that had my mind reeling.

He didn't say it scathingly. He didn't say it in a patronizing me. It wasn't cold-hearted, rude, or provoking.

He just sounded so _desperate. _He sounded desperate to know the truth. To know what my feelings of hate were based off of. His tiredness and exasperation that I had seen in his eyes before showed in this one word, and I was frozen in my place.

I scrambled for an answer in my head, trying to plan it out, but the words flowed out of me freely.

"Because you're _James Potter_," I told him. "You stand for everything I'm not. You're the quidditch star, you have girls flaunting over you, your Mr. Popular, your parents are heroes for Merlin's sake! You're perfect and I – "

I was cut off my James' fist slamming into the door of his bedroom behind him. While I had been talking, I had been looking everywhere but James. As my eyes slid to him, I took in his posture. His back and head were leaning against his closed bedroom door, his eyes in slits, glaring at me. Slowly, he slid forward from the door, hands in fists and his head shaking slowly.

"_Never_ call me perfect." As James said this, for the first time in my life, I was scared and intimidated by James Potter. Not scared for my life, scared. But his eerily calm voice that was full of rage was enough to put me on edge. He laughed bitterly, like nothing he was laughing about was humorous in a single way. "You have no idea what my life is like. And opposed to your beliefs, it is _far_ from perfect."

Thinking of my family, I almost shot back that my life was probably much worse than his, but he sounded so serious and damaged in that instant that I couldn't bring myself to say a thing.

"And you," he continued, pointing a finger at me as if I didn't know who he was talking about. "You're just like the rest of them! All of them! 'You're parents are heroes, for Merlin's sake'… do you think that makes me perfect?" He asked in a disbelieving tone. "Have you ever thought that it makes me the exact opposite?" I was confused, but so alarmed by the way Potter was acting that I didn't even know how to reply.

But I didn't have to. He was done with me. Shaking his head at me again, he said, "You honestly have no idea," before turning around, yanking open the door his room, and leaving me in the common room alone, slamming his door behind me.

Slowly, I sank down to sit against my door, my head resting against it.

_What just happened?_

* * *

_**A/N:**_Big shoutout to everyone who has reviewed and/or story alerted in the past couple weeks! We're so excited to be posting again and we're glad you guys like it!

Pretty emotional chapter, I think. We delve into the minds of Fred and Morgan, as well as James and Abigail's preconceived (and false) notions about the other. This is when their relationship begins to shift, so hold on!

Until next week!


	9. Trouble

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Trouble" belongs to the band Coldplay.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Trouble**

"_Oh no, what's this? A spider web and I'm caught in the middle."_

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

I had been in quite a nasty slump after that last fight with King. I had only seen her once since our fight, and she looked like she was avoiding eye contact. I wasn't sure what that meant, but she sure wasn't apologizing either. She was evidently avoiding me either way.

For four days, I constantly snapped at my friends and avoided most conversations at all costs. Every time someone tried to talk to me, I would act irritable and most likely be an arse. Everything just _frustrated _me. I had no patience for anything.

Ryan discovered this for himself on Monday. He tried explaining to me how the concept of an imperturbable charm could keep our Quidditch tactics secret when I just started yelling about how there were more important things than Quidditch at the moment. He proceeded to smack me in the face before walking away. It hurt.

On Thursday, I realized that, aside from cranky and arse-like, my attitude had left me forgetful. I still had to write an Ancient Runes essay that was due the next day, in addition to having to go to a Prefects meeting that night. I trudged my way across the castle and into the library to start said essay. Today was one of the worse days of the slump. Everything I did seemed unusually difficult and heavy. I threw myself into a chair at a table in a huff.

Another thing about this slump was that it caused lack of perceptiveness. Which is probably why I didn't notice my own sister, Lily, sitting straight across from me.

"What's got _your _knickers in a bunch?" she asked me with a slightly concerned expression on her face.

I considered just picking up my things and walking away, but that seemed to take up too much energy. "Well," I stated hotly, "I'm currently at odds with my co-Head, one of my best friends thinks I'm a prick, and I have an Ancient Runes essay that I have to finish in all of three hours." I dropped my head onto the desk.

"Well that's just fucking terrible," she replied.

Lily was almost fourteen, and she had just entered that stage in her life when swear words made her feel really cool. But for a thirteen year old, she had a really big vocabulary.

I shot her a look. She sighed and said, "What happened with Abigail?"

Lily loved King. She would occasionally come over to talk with Molly and Dom at meals and would talk to King and Morgan along with them. Like I said, Lily was a mature thirteen year old.

"I kind of yelled at her."

"Ugh. Men are so stupid," she said pointedly. "_Never _yell at a girl, James."

"She deserved it. She went off calling me perfect and…" I sighed and said quietly, "It was like she was comparing me to mum and dad. I'm just so sick and tired of all of that. She's just as bad as everyone else." Lily and my brother, Al, were not new to being compared to our parents. They were both the victims of it, just like I was.

But her words weren't the only things that were driving me mad. It was the fact that when I yelled at her, she looked simply _hurt. _And that when I saw that look on her face, it made my heart drop into my stomach, and wish that I could take it all back. But then I would remember what she said to me, and how I wished those words never came out of her mouth.

She took in my last words and seemed to think for a little bit. After a minute of tapping her fingers on the desk, she said, "I know this might be hard for you, but try to keep an open mind. Parents are a probably a sensitive topic for her."

Now I was thoroughly confused. A sensitive topic? Before I had time to ask her about it, Lily changed the subject. "So what about this essay? You still have a couple hours right?"

"Yeah except I have to go to a Prefects meeting in an hour."

"Well you shat that one up."

I blinked. "What?"

"Shat," she stated. "It's the past tense of shit." I just raised an eyebrow in response. She shrugged. "I was trying something new."

"Right."

"Why don't you just skip the meeting to finish your essay? I'm sure Abigail can handle it. She's very organized."

Although I wasn't too sure about that last statement, I let my sister convince me to take the night off for the sake of my essay. Just let King handle it. After all, it was just one day – I needed to finish my essay. Though I was starting to think that I could use a mental health day as well.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I was sick. And by sick, I mean sore throat, stuffy nose, storm in my belly, the whole shebang. I was currently spread out across my bed, the empty space that I wasn't occupying filled with last minute school work and Prefect duty timetables. I tried beyond belief to stay focused on the many tasks at hand but my mind was swimming with thoughts of James Potter and not throwing up.

Which had been paired together in my mind before.

Anyway.

I had no idea what to think about our last encounter. Every time I started to think about it, I would instantly feel guilty. I had obviously struck a nerve when I said that he was perfect. He had looked so pained, like I had slapped him in the face. Maybe if I had, it would have hurt him less. But then when I thought about why I accused him of being perfect, I got mad all over again! He _was _perfect, he _was _Mr. Popular, and he _was _stupid.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

You know what else was stupid? Prefect time tables. And being sick. I started pacing my room, knowing I had to make the new Prefect pairs for duties. We had discussed the time tables at the meeting last month, but I never asked Potter to help make them. That would require talking to him. And I think we were in a fight back then.

I sighed. _When _weren't _we in a fight?_

Just then, an intense wave of dizziness passed over me. I stopped pacing and put a hand to my forehead. I was hot. And not in a sexy way.

"Bloody hell…" I groaned.

"You're right, Dom, she doesn't look so good."

I gave a startled shriek and spun to my doorway (which probably didn't help the head rush). I saw Morgan. Molly, and Dom standing there with magazines, two thermoses, and worried expressions.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked hoarsely. And there goes my voice.

"Well you weren't in last period, so we thought you might be sick," explained Morgan.

"And apparently we were right," Molly added.

Dom nodded in agreement. She held out the two thermoses. "Cocoa and soup."

My face lit up. "French onion?" I said hopefully.

"Hogwarts' very best," answered Molly.

I sighed happily and invited them in. I almost wanted to cry about how great my friends were. And given the delirium, I probably could have. I shuffled over in my bunny slippers and reached out to give them a group hug. They immediately backed up into the doorway.

There goes the moment.

I laughed and went back to my bed. I was suddenly very cheerful. But then, in one thought, the mood was ruined.

Dom apparently saw this. "What's wrong?"

"It's just…I have a Prefects meeting in an hour," I said sadly.

The three of them looked at each other. They were probably communicating silently. I was too sick to pick up the topic.

"Why don't you just let James handle the meeting tonight?" Molly said gently.

"Yeah, James is actually pretty responsible. He can handle it," Morgan added optimistically. I raised my eyebrows at this.

Dom sighed. "Think about it for a minute. Stay here and get to sleep," she put up one hand, "or go to some stuffy Prefects meeting." She put up her other hand to indicate the scale of my choices.

It hit me in that moment just how tired I was. Sleeping sounded really, really good.

"You know, you're right! I'm sick!" I sniffled to prove my point. They cheered for my apparent spontaneity.

They left a couple minutes later after I finished my soup. I snuggled down into my comforter and let my eyelids droop.

* * *

I had been hoping for dreams of sunshine and buttercups, but I dreamt that I went to breakfast wearing nothing but my Heads badge, mysteriously pinned to my skin. Even so, I wouldn't let that keep me down.

I had slept for almost two hours, and the changes were wonderful. I still _felt _like utter crap, but a trip to my mirror showed me that I had more color and looked significantly healthy. To anyone who didn't already know I was sick, I appeared perfectly fine.

I walked happily into the common room. I was just about to plop down on the couch when I heard the door open. I looked around in surprise.

Potter just walked in.

He looked equally surprised to see me. And also confused.

"What are you going here?" I shot at him. My voice was less scratchy, but hurt like hell. "The meetings not over for another hour..."

Before he could say anything, there was an urgent knock at the door. Potter spun around and opened in.

To a flustered and unhappy looking Neville.

"My office. Now."

* * *

We followed Neville to his office in silence. We seemed to be doing a lot of this lately.

I shot a look at Potter. He seemed to be trying to ignore me, but failed and looked back at me. I shot him a questioning glance, but he just shrugged. I secretly enjoyed those looks I shared with Potter; the looks that weren't angry or accusing. But now, he didn't know what was going on either. Did Neville cancel the Prefect meeting or something? Did Potter?

On the walk to Neville's office, I got very tired again. Apparently I could only walk a couple of feet without getting exhausted. But I supposed I still looked healthy. Neither Potter nor Neville said anything about my current health. And I didn't have Neville for any classes today.

Once we got to Neville's office, he sat down at his desk and made a point of studying us over. I felt nervous under his speculative gaze, as if I were being judged for a competition. He looked back and forth between me and Potter.

"I'm sensing a lack of communication here, am I right?"

His tone wasn't harsh or judging. It was almost observant, like he was some couple's counselor or something. The thought made me blush.

"Sir?" Potter asked.

"Well there hasn't been a major blowout in the last week. I would've been notified of the damage."

"Um, no sir, we haven't been fighting," I answered tentatively.

"But you obviously haven't been talking…"

Potter and I looked at each other. His brows were furrowed in confusion. My head started spinning. I would like to say that it was spinning with thoughts, but it was really dizziness.

"Erm… why would you say that professor?" Potter asked.

He stood up and crossed his arms. "Because neither of you went to the monthly Prefects meeting which _you _scheduled."

I _knew _something was up when I saw him in the dorm! I spun to face him, making my head worse.

He started talking before I could get a word in. "Why weren't you at the meeting?" he accused.

I scoffed at his obviously thoughtless comment. "Why weren't _you _at the meeting?" I shot back.

"I was finishing an Ancient Runes essay! I knew I shouldn't have let Lily convince me that you were organized." He said that last part more to himself than to me. I quickly thought fondly of his younger sister. She was just so nice, even if she was a third year. You can't fake that kind of maturity.

I snapped out of it. "You probably just wanted to avoid me! Ha!" I threw my head back to laugh. Pain shot up my temple. "I knew the girls were crazy when they said you were responsible!"

"Avoiding _you_?" James asked, apparently shocked. He was so full of it. "_You _were avoiding _me!"_

I scoffed and was about to promptly tell him where to shove it when Neville interrupted me. "ALRIGHT!" He cleared his throat. "Alright. Here's the deal. This is an open, white-flag session. I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to answer. And I'll give my professional opinion. Only rule, no interrupting." He looked back and forth between us. He had gotten that therapist tone in his voice again. "Abigail, why don't you tell me what your last fight was about," he said soothingly.

I took a breath. "Okay. Well, we made an agreement to not fight anymore because of the problems it caused. It worked well for a bit. But then we made sure that we still weren't friends and –"

"Wait a second, you both went to make sure that you still _weren't _friends?" he asked incredulously.

Potter nodded curtly. He was leaning up against a wall of the opposite side of the room and was staring stonily at the floor.

"That is messed up," Neville replied.

I looked at him in shock. "Whatever happened to no interrupting? And _professional _opinion?"

"I'm the moderator. I can say what I want." He looked pleased when he said this. "Now, Abigail, continue."

"Right. Well, when we made sure we weren't friends, he started patronizing me like _I _was the only one who wanted to make sure when _he _came up to do the exact same thing!" I felt like my voice was getting louder with every word I said. And with the volume came the head rush. "And then he exploded at me and slammed the door!"

Potter got up from the wall and glared at me. "Don't you think you're leaving something out of that story, King?" Apparently the no interrupting rule was dead. "Maybe the part where you practically _accused _me of being perfect when you have no bloody _idea _what you're talking about! And _hypocritical! _With your holier-than-thou attitude, when _you're _the one who's so bloody perfect!"

I let out a shriek of frustration. "James Potter you are so _obviously _deluded if you think my life is anything close to perfect" I got up out of my chair and threw my hands up. "You have no clue what my life is like!" My voice cracked at the end, not from illness, but from sadness. I started pacing the room like a madwoman. The dizziness was getting worse, but I was not finished. I had to make my point. I walked up to Potter and pointed my finger rudely in his face.

He didn't flinch back, just started at me. "Maybe if you paid attention for five…seconds…" The volume of my voice was dropping rapidly. I looked around me, then back to his face. I blinked a few times, but his face wouldn't come into focus. "You might –" His expression suddenly changed from anger to concern. "I – I don't…"

That's when my legs buckled from underneath me and I was falling forward into Potter. The last things I remembered before I passed out were his arms around me and how warm he was.

* * *

**A/N: **ITS ALL COMING OUT NOWWWW! Another crazy chapter consisting of sisterly advice and feverish hijinks. And expect more of Lily - she's hysterical to write.

On a completely non-fanfiction, unrelated side note, I have a question! I'm desperately craving book recommendations, and I figured who better to ask than fiction nerds like me? Any genre whatsoever, just let me know in a review - but still obviously give feedback about the chapter! Your reviews keep us going!

Until next week.


	10. Square One

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Square One" belongs to the band Coldplay.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Square One**

"_You just want somebody listening to what you say… It doesn't matter who you are."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

It was black.

I could only see black. If it was possible to feel black, I felt it. I also felt a painful throbbing on my head. After I noticed I could feel this, I realized I was actually awake. I just needed to muster up the strength to open my eyes. I fluttered them open quickly, but then shut them again after being blinded by the brightness of whatever room I was in. Bracing myself this time. I opened my eyes, sat up, and took in my surroundings.

The room was set up exactly like my bedroom with a wardrobe in the corner, a mirror on the wall, and a small desk against the wall. There were hardly any decorations on the wall, making the room seem incredibly bare compared to my Holyhead Harpies and photograph covered walls. I suddenly noticed that I was sitting on the bed. But I was still very confused as to where I was…until something caught my eye that cleared it all up.

In the corner of the room opposite of where the wardrobe was sat James Potter, on the ground with his knees up towards the ceiling and his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tilted back against the wall, but his eyes were focused on me. It reminded me vaguely of how he had looked during our fight in the common room. Except then he looked incredibly angry…and now he looked tired, and somewhat worried. So, yes. This is what made the truth dawn on me.

Dear Merlin. I was in James Potters' bedroom.

I had to refrain from letting out a snort. I realized how many girls in Hogwarts would kill to be in my position right now.

I sat up a bit more, criss-crossing my legs and resting my head in my palm as my arm rested on my thigh. My head was still throbbing like crazy and it felt heavy and fuzzy.

"Well," I rasped out, and I noticed my sore throat had gotten worse. "Never thought I'd see the day that I'd be in James Potter's bed."

I let out a coughing laugh, and Potter tried to do the same, but the concern in his eyes prevented any humor from showing in his laughter.

He suddenly stood from his position on the floor and walked over to me, perching himself on the side of the bed. This put us in a close proximity, but not enough to make it uncomfortable.

Potter let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, something I had seen him do so many times before. "King…" he shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

I was anticipating quite a few things for James Potter to say to me. For example: some yelling about our fight, some yelling about missing the Prefects' meeting, telling me to get the hell out of his bed, etc. So, it can't come as a surprise that I was incredibly shocked by the concern that shown through his words.

I rolled my eyes, though. "Honestly, Potter, we hadn't spoken for days. Do you think I was going to waltz up to you to say, 'Hello! I know you honestly hate me right now, but I felt the need to inform that my immune system is lacking. Thank you very much?'"

His muddy brown eyes rolled in return. "I guess you have a point there."

I nodded in agreement, but stopped.

I was in James Potter's bed.

And I didn't know how I got there.

How did this not occur to me when I woke up?

"Ummm…" I began. "I kind of…don't remember what happened at all. The last thing I remember is being in Neville's office and you…" I trailed off, not wanting to relive the anger that spurred inside me when he called _me _perfect.

The concern that had faded slightly from Potter's eyes was reignited. I, quite frankly, did not understand this nonsense. I mean, the man was supposed to hate me for Merlin's sake. What was with the care and concern?

However, it was refreshing…if that makes sense. A part of me - a larger part of me than I'd like to admit - liked being on good terms with Potter. I felt as if it wouldn't last, considering we bickered constantly, but I rather liked the friendliness while it lasted.

"Well…" Potter's voice broke me from my thoughts. "You kind of fainted. We were in Neville's office, like you said, and I called you…well you know... and you got really angry and I guess being so worked up along with you being ill kind of…sent you over the edge."

I groaned as I remembered. "No wonder my head hurts," I said. "It's not every day you face plant into the floor."

Potter smiled faintly at this. "Well, actually, I caught you. You didn't hit your head on anything. You probably just have a fever."

_Ooooohhh…_I thought, but then realized I had said it stupidly out loud, causing Potter to chuckle at me.

"Anyway," he continued, amused by me antics. "I carried you back to the dorm. And here we are now," he finished, gesturing around us.

I raised an eyebrow. "Hold on. Why am I in _your _room? On _your _bed?" I asked him.

"Hey," he said in a jokingly serious tone. "You realize how many girls would kill to be you right now?"

I rolled my eyes and snorted at this, thinking about how I had thought that before.

"Actually, you're in here because of that nifty little charm you have on your bedroom door." He raised an eyebrow at me.

Right. I had put a protective charm on my door so only I could enter my room, or grant others the permission. The only people I had granted permission were Molly, Morgan, and Dom. I loved having the privacy of a bedroom, and I didn't want Potter spoiling it. And after Fred, the ultimate prankster, started to have access to our dorm, I had to take some precautions.

"Ah, that's right…" I knew I had a smug look on my face because of my brilliance, causing Potter to roll his eyes at me.

"Hey, be thankful, I've been trying to sleep on the ground all night. It hasn't worked to well," he told me with a grimace, obviously thinking over the uncomfortable night he'd had on the ground.

I grimaced too. "Sorry," I told him.

He just shrugged. "S'alright."

We fell into a long silence after that until he broke it very suddenly.

"I... I hate my reputation, you know."

_Whaaaatttt?_

"Everyone always thinks I savor the spotlight. Star quidditch player. Head Boy. Son of the heroic Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. Practically top of the class. They all think I love it. When, really, it's the reason I dread coming back to school."

He shook his head repeatedly. It seemed like he was either struggling to get the words out, or struggling to keep them in. I couldn't tell which, though.

"I just wish…" He sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I want people to realize that what I do and who my family is doesn't make me perfect. When you called me perfect, you just wanted me to know that people thought that about me. I just want people to see me as James Potter. A kid." He laughed at himself a little. "It sounds incredibly stupid, I know."

I shook my head at this. "No, it doesn't." He just shrugged. "Potter, I really had no idea…I mean I just thought –"

"That it's what I wanted right? That I loved the lifestyle?" He asked me accusingly, but not scathingly.

I sighed. "Yes, I suppose."

"Yeah, well I don't." His fingers picked at a loose string pulled from the quilt that was laying over my legs. "I guess I'm just telling you this because…if it's nearly impossible for everyone to understand - which I know it is – I might as well start somewhere, yeah?"

I looked at the somewhat vulnerable boy sitting before me, his eyes focused on his fingers' petty task. "I'm sorry I had to be a part of it. That I judged you."

He looked up at me, brown meeting grey eyes. "Yeah, me too." At my confused stare, he continued. "I did to you what everyone has always done to me. Accusing you of being this image of perfect when I really have no idea what your life is like outside of being Head Girl." He looked like this apology was somewhat difficult for him. But I could relate.

I had tensed slightly when he mentioned the area of me being perfect, and I knew I sounded cold in my reply. "You're right. You have no idea."

Another silence fell, but I was the one to break it this time.

"And don't expect me to go spilling me life story of why I'm not perfect. It's not what I signed up for when I woke up." There was no way I was going to go and tell James Potter - of all people - the truth about my parents. Dom, Morgan, and Molly didn't even know my entire home situation. I wasn't telling anyone anytime soon.

"I'm not expecting anything from you," Potter told me in reply. "But I didn't spill all of this to issue some sort of white flag between us. I just wanted to tell someone."

_And that someone just happens to be me. _

It was a thought that I pondered on quite a lot after Potter and I had this conversation. Why Potter told me this instead of his best mates, I wasn't exactly sure. We had never been friends. Hell, we had a hard time being the least bit friendly. So it shocked me that Potter was willing to open up this huge part of his life to me. Maybe, as a guy, he didn't realize what he had done and what it had meant. But I was a girl, and I did realize it. And I was flattered. Despite the fact that it was not said to make us friends, closer to being friends, or anything of the sort, he had still told me.

And that had to mean something, right? But what exactly did I want it to mean?

* * *

That question seemed to haunt me for the remainder of the day. Eventually I had moved into my own bedroom. I moved slowly but surely into my room, refusing Potter's offers to help. My pride had to remain intact. He stayed by his bedroom door, accepting my decision, but watching with cautious eyes.

Madam Burke, the Hospital Wing nurse, came to see me soon after Potter left, diagnosing me with a "small bout of pneumonia." She chided me for not seeing her when I first noticed my symptoms and forbade me from leaving my bed all day except for meals. She claimed it would probably be easier to recover in my own room rather than the dreary Hospital Wing.

"Now get some breakfast in you, deary. You cannot recover on an empty stomach," she said, clapping her hands twice. I smiled and willed myself out of bed, knowing Madam Burke would force feed me if I didn't do what she said.

I didn't even have time to change out of my sweatpants and jumper before she was shuffling me out the door. She walked in the opposite direction, calling after her, "Make sure to drink orange juice, Ms. King!"

I looked down sadly at my attire, realizing I could not go back to change or I would miss breakfast. Maybe no one would notice. I sighed and started to the Great Hall.

The second I walked up to my table, Dom gasped. "Abigail, what in Merlin's name are you wearing?"

If I had wanted to make a modest entrance, Dom just ruined that. Now I had seven pairs of eyes of our friends trained on me. Including a nice pair of brown ones with gold speckles that I was too embarrassed to look at right now. I was still recovering from recent events mentally, as well as physically. "I didn't have time to change…" I grumbled, slipping onto the bench next to Ryan.

Molly's eyes widened across the table. I noticed with mixed feelings that Potter was sitting right across from me. "What if a boy sees you?"

Molly made shallow statements like this every once and a while. I was used to it by now, but it always annoyed me a bit that it came out of _her _mouth of all people. I cocked my head to the said, exasperated. "Well if I'm not mistaken, four just have," I said smartly, gesturing to Fred, Ryan, Mitch, and Potter. "Any objections, boys?"

I heard mumbled "no's" from around me, the guys obviously knowing not to get involved with this. Smart lads.

Molly sighed and put a hand to her forehead. "Oh, Merlin, sorry Abigail. I wasn't thinking. Sometimes I just…"

I smiled at my friend, forgiving her instantly. "S'alright, Mol. I'm just kind of tired, short temper and all that."

And just like that, the tension was gone. Our friends went back to talking about random things like this week's Potions assignment and the Quidditch game tomorrow. I silently filled my plate with toast and apple slices, willing my stomach to stay calm at the sight of oatmeal. I ripped off a small piece of toast and chewed it slowly, looking around. Everyone seemed to be talking except for Potter.

This bothered me for some reason and decided to get him talking, remembering Madam Burke's instruction. "Potter, pass me the orange juice, would you?" It was conveniently placed next to him where I could not reach.

He blinked a couple times, apparently coming back to reality. "Yeah, sure." Our friends stopped talking. They were probably shocked by the civil interaction. I couldn't blame them.

But my clever ruse for civility stopped short when he handed me the jug of juice. When I went to put it down, it clipped the side of my plate and spilled. Right onto Potter's plate. The orange liquid drowned his eggs and bacon. A couple of our friends jumped at the action.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, jumping up from my chair to reach for napkins. Potter did the same and I had déjà vu of when the same thing occurred with a jug of cocoa. I knew the fight was coming. "It really was an accident, Potter." I sighed, bracing myself for the storm.

"Don't worry about it."

_What? _I blinked, dropping my hand. "What?"

He looked up confusedly. I realized this was the first time I looked him in the eye since this morning. "It's fine. I can just get a new plate."

That's when I knew we had hit a milestone. This had never happened before, we were being absolutely civil to each other, and we didn't fight because of some stupid accident. Potter seemed to sense it too because he stopped wiping the table. He seemed to be searching my eyes for something. I felt this funny little twinge in my stomach, and it wasn't the pneumonia.

I broke eye contact to look down at the table, realizing it was clean. I sat down slowly, Potter mimicking my actions. I looked up and saw he was still watching me. I bit my cheek to keep from smiling, but it didn't work. A small smile graced my face.

The corner of Potter's mouth twitched up, and he started to fill a new plate, shaking his head.

I heard Morgan sigh beside me, whispering to Fred, "I believe you owe me fifteen sickles." He groaned.

But I ignored them, not bothering to make sense of their words. Because Potter and I had just started over. But this time, we were kind of friends. Back to square one.

* * *

**A/N: **Pretty short chapter (and only one POV, I realized) but hopefully it will hold all of you over until next week! Thank you all **SO MUCH** for the great book recommendations! I'll definitely have some good options for when we go to the beach tomorrow! Don't worry, I'll still try to update on Friday! If for some reason you don't get an update then, I'll post it on Saturday when I get home. Again, thanks so much for all the book recommendations!

As always, please write a review and tell us what you think! Maybe we'll hit 50 soon? Until next Friday!


	11. For Reasons Unknown

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "For Reasons Unknown" belongs to The Killers.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: For Reasons Unknown**

"_With one deep breath and one big step, I move a little bit closer for reasons unknown."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

Friendship with James Potter was surprisingly fulfilling. After the game-changing breakfast in the Great Hall, everything I did that day seemed a lot easier. I didn't snap at anyone, and I didn't even care that I was missing my classes for recovery time. I had plenty of time, I could make up the work when I could.

I went to see Madam Burke at the end of the day, and she claimed that after a good night's rest, I would be fine. Fine enough to go to the Quidditch match the next day. Gryffindor versus Slytherin was a huge deal, so I was ecstatic.

Because of my bedridden state, I'd had the whole day to reflect on everything that had happened. But I guess one day was not enough because the next morning when I woke up, I was still thinking about it. I lay in bed and my mind began to race.

He had told me about something I assumed not many other people knew. If any at all. That had to mean something, right? I got up and paced my bedroom floor. I knew that it meant something to me. A small part of me felt that if he had told me this, that meant he thought that he could trust me. We even avoided a fight at breakfast. And that made my heart race with... I don't know. Happiness, I think.

I distractedly started stripping my pajamas and replacing them with a pair of jeans and a thick jumper. One glance at the clock told me that the match would be starting in a half an hour. I opened my window to check the temperature and was quickly slapped with the bitter cold of the November morning. I put on a button up coat over my jumper and topped it off with my house scarf. Gotta support the scarlet and gold for one of the most intense matches of the season.

Now, I was obviously not on the Quidditch team myself, but the sport gave me an adrenaline rush like nothing else. Watching the players speed across the field was an excitement I couldn't get anywhere else. So to say that I was a bit excited for the day's match would be an understatement. Not to mention it was one of the most _intense matches of the season! _Did I mention that already?

I was about to rush out of the common room when I noticed a light under Potter's door. _What the hell? _I thought, glancing at the clock on the mantle. Only twenty minutes to go… and I had enough friends on the team to know that they met in the locker rooms a half an hour before the match even starts.

My eyes widened and, on an impulsive (and nervous) decision, I banged my hand on Potter's door vigorously. "Potter! _Potter!"_

There seemed to be a lot of shuffling and tripping going on behind the door. The door flew open and there stood Potter, seemingly in the process of putting on his Quidditch jumper. I blushed as he pulled the rest of it over his stomach. He looked concerned. "What is it?" he asked, flustered. "You're not gonna faint again are you?"

I rolled my eyes at his way of expressing worry. "No but I _will _if you don't hurry up!"

He shook his head confusedly, saying, "What are you on about, King?"

I think my grew as wide as a pair of snitches. "I'm _on _about the game starting in twenty minutes!"

He started at me dumbly for a couple of seconds. I waited for it to hit him. His eyes shot down to his watch. "Shit!"

There you go. "Yeah!"

"My watch must've stopped; I thought I had an hour!" He looked so flustered I almost smiled. He looked around his room frantically, then back at me expectantly. "Well? Aren't you going to help me?"

I smiled again, going around his room, picking up various pieces of his uniform. Eventually, we shot out of the common room and ran as fast as we could down to the Quidditch pitch. Potter was putting on the gathered bits of uniform while he ran, me helping to adjust everything accordingly.

But during all this, the only thing I could think about was that I was running the fastest I ever have down the Hogwarts grounds with James Potter. When his uniform was all together he grabbed my hand distractedly and we ran even faster.

It must have been the most fun I'd had in a very long time.

By the time we reached the locker rooms, we were out of breath with minutes to spare. The whole team turned around and looked at us. I dropped my hand immediately. Dom raised an eyebrow at me, gesturing between me and Potter with her beater's bat. I just shook my head.

"James!" Fred exclaimed. "Where have you been? The match is in five!"

"I know," he said, walking up to join them. He rambled some apology and grabbed his broom.

I stayed at the back of the locker room while Fred finished the pep talk. Everyone seemed significantly more pumped by the time it was over, and were waiting for the cue to enter the pitch when Potter walked back over to me.

"Thanks for the help this morning," he said, tapping his broom with one hand. Nervous twitch. "Fred would have flipped a shit if I was late to the match."

I shrugged indifferently. "It's no problem." We stood there kind of awkwardly until the first whistle blew on the pitch. That was their cue. As Potter turned away, I realized that I should have said something a little more helpful.

"Potter!" He looked back at me while the rest of the team shuffled out the door and raised an eyebrow. I hesitated. "Erm… good luck? Yeah. Good luck today."

He cocked his head to one side in surprise. "Wow, King. That was…"

"Charming?"

"I was going to say unexpected," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching with a smile. "But thanks."

"Hey, don't thank me yet," I warned, pointing a finger at him. "It won't be _my _head on the chopping block if we lose today."

He let a nervous chuckle. "Pshh, whatever." He was almost out the door when he called out over his shoulder, "See you at the victory party."

I smirked. So damn cocky.

* * *

So damn right.

Four agonizingly cold hours of Quidditch finally paid off to a catch of the snitch and an automatic win for Gryffindor and a crushing loss for Slytherin. By then even the heating charm on my gloves didn't seem to defrost my fingers. But it was worth it.

So needless to say, I had a goofy smile on my face back partying in the Gryffindor Common room, celebrating the needed victory with the rest of the house. Since it was a Saturday and teachers would get suspicious if an entire house was in the common room all day, the party started after Prefects made their nightly rounds. Preparations were made all day long. Now the common room was decorated with ribbons, balloons, and bottles of various liquors. And Fred was currently standing on top of a sofa, holding up a glass of firewhiskey, giving out one of his famous, and slightly buzzed, victory speeches.

"First of all, to our wonderful Chasers James, Ryan, and Susan! Without you, we wouldn't have had as many points as we did in the first place!" There was a loud eruption of cheers and applause. Fred gestured to James and Ryan standing by his feet, smacking them good-heartedly on the heads, and bowing to Susan Peakes, a ruthless fifth year, across the room. All three laughed at his theatrics.

"And, of course, my fellow Beater and dear cousin, Dom! I especially appreciated that bludger to Nott's head!" Next to me, Dom whooped in acknowledgement and raised her bottle of butterbeer at her cousin. Molly and I nudged her from both sides, giggling. Fred spun around and pointed at Ian Claverdon across the room, the team Keeper. "Ian! How _vigorously _you guarded those goal posts!" The cheers continued.

Morgan walked up beside me, dancing a little as she walked. I was glad Morgan seemed to be having a good time. She rarely let loose at big parties. Fred continued his speech, "And _how _could we ever forget the savior of the night? Sheila MacDonald!" He blew a dramatic kiss in the seventh year Seeker's direction, receiving a rude hand gesture in reply. Fred just laughed harder. Morgan stopped dancing.

I shot her a look that she just ignored. Suddenly, Fred pulled Morgan onto the sofa with him and slipped an arm around her shoulders, her strange attitude disappearing entirely. She even seemed to blush a little. I noticed Molly and Dom shoot a questioning look at her.

"And so," Fred finished, raising his glass in a toast, "I ask you, my fellow teammates and rabid fans, to celebrate this awe-inspiring victory and get thoroughly _sloshed _with me. Because we might not make good choices, but hell, we make _great_ stories."

At his last words, the whole room erupted with cheers, everyone raising their glasses at his speech. Fred hopped off the sofa, helping Morgan down as well, looking extremely too proud of himself. But I had to admit, the boy did have a way with words. I could tell Morgan was thinking the same thing when they walked back over to us.

"My dear," Fred was telling her, "you look absolutely _stunning _tonight." Morgan was just wearing a sweater and jeans, some mittens tucked in her back pocket from the match.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you should cut back on the liquor, my friend."

Dom giggled and said, "The sad thing is that he hasn't even finished his first glass. He's probably still remotely sober."

Molly shook her head at him. "Only _love _drunk," she said suggestively.

At this, even Fred seemed to blush a little. "You know, I'm not just going to stand here and accept this abuse!" He turned to Morgan in a huff, stuck out his hand, and said, "A dance, milady?"

She giggled and took his hand. "Of course, kind sir."

As they walked away dancing, the three of us looked after them in confusion. I was the first to speak up. "I will just never understand those two."

They shrugged, accepting this. We parted ways, making the rounds around the common room. I saw familiar faces, unfamiliar faces, and faces that just didn't even register in my mind. Eventually, I started to slip out of the party mood. Maybe the drinks were starting to get to my head. Maybe I was just tired. I just wanted to find somewhere to _be. _There were too many people talking to me, asking me to dance, voicing new ideas for an inter-house common room. Maybe the party just peaked after the second or third hour. I just needed it all to stop.

I considered going back to the Heads' dorms, but I didn't really want to be alone. I would probably just sit in my room, thinking about how many great things were happening at the party since I left (even though that was highly unlikely). Even if Potter had already retired back to our dorms, I wasn't sure if I was ready to face him. Before the Quidditch game we had been rushed and frantic, not acknowledging what we'd talked about the night before. About his family and the pressures and everything. But now that I'd had time to think, I realized I had no idea how to act around him. So naturally, I decided to disappear.

I knew the perfect place to go. It was a little "secret room" of sorts in the corner of the seventh floor corridor, behind a tapestry. They must have used it for storage back in the day, because it was only occupied by empty boxes and cobwebs. It was too big to be a cupboard, too small to be a deserted classroom. The perfect size for a mentally drained Head Girl.

But leaving the common room, I saw that the tapestry was already pulled aside and the room was occupied. With one James Potter sitting on a box, drinking a firewhiskey.

_Damn it, Potter._ You can't very well disappear when there's someone else in your hiding spot. I sighed. "Oh, it's you."

He apparently hadn't noticed me standing there because he jumped when I spoke. "Merlin, King. Give me a heart attack, would you?"

"Oops," I deadpanned. Sure, we were friends now - or at least friendly - but my sarcasm didn't drop with a white flag.

"What's with you?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I can't seem to figure that out," I said honestly. Why bother making up excuses? He practically volunteered himself to listen to my problems when he stole my hiding place. I shot him a look. Why was he here anyway? "This is my hiding spot. Why are you here?"

He grunted. "_My_ hiding spot. It was loud. I needed some peace and quiet, I suppose."

"Fair enough," I answered. "But that doesn't mean I'm leaving," I told him with a little smile, trying to lighten our obviously dull moods.

He gestured to the rest of the room. "By all means."

"What time is it anyway?" I asked him, perching myself on a short wooden box in the closet. I knew we'd been in the Gryffindor common room for more than a couple of hours, and the Prefect rounds had ended at almost 11 o'clock.

He lifted his wrist and looked at his watch. "Erm… it's almost three," he chuckled.

I laughed. No one inside the party even seemed to notice. I knew that I should care more that I was contradicting my Head status by being out this late past curfew, but I just couldn't be bothered by it. "Wow. I haven't been up this late in… I don't know how long," I said.

"What? You never stay up late at parties or with the girls?" he asked, looking surprised.

"I tend to fall asleep pretty early at slumber parties." All of a sudden, a memory flooded into my mind like a long forgotten lullaby. I gave a small chuckle. "You know… I used to stay up really late with my uncle Matt and watch the moon…" I shook my head, attempting to snap some sense back into it. "But you probably don't want to hear that. It's kind of a long, silly story."

But for some reason, Potter looked interested. "Well now you've caught my attention. You can't leave me hanging like that."

I picked at a loose string on my sweater. "Alright, I suppose. Okay, so when I was about eight or so, I got this crazy idea that the world changed after midnight. Like, as if everything was a whole different experience. So one night, I told Uncle Matt that I would stay up past midnight to see if anything at all changed.

"Of course, like I said, I was really little. So staying up past midnight was a momentous occasion," I explained this to him, and he nodded his head like it was the most serious thing in the world. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor right in front of me, never dropping his attention the whole time. "We lived in a small flat at the time, so that night we set up camp on the roof of the building, with lawn chairs and lanterns and things. My uncle brought a pocket watch to keep track of time.

"So the whole night we talked and talked until midnight came. And when it did, I got so_ terribly _upset because everything seemed exactly the same," I said, feeling the old irrational sadness of that memory come the surface. "My uncle pointed to the moon and said, 'But if you hadn't stayed up so late, you would have never seen the moon look as beautiful as this, kiddo.' He was trying to make me feel better."

I twirled a piece of hair around my finger unconsciously and laughed nostalgically. "Merlin, I must have cried for _hours _before I fell asleep…"

Potter frowned. "That wasn't a very good story," he said, seeming bothered.

I laughed. "That's not the end of the story," I explained. He seemed reassured by this. "A while later, I woke up. We were still on the roof, but when I looked up in the sky, the moon wasn't there anymore. There was a star where it used to be, but no moon.

"I _freaked out,_" I told him with a smile, gesturing wildly with my hands. " I woke up my uncle and told him that I was right, and things _do _change after midnight. The moon was _gone. _How could no one else have ever noticed that the moon just disappears in the middle of the night?"

Potter laughed then. It was a deep, rich rumbling that came from his chest. I was glad that he thought this memory was funny, even if we were really laughing at my own stupidity. It felt really nice to just hang out with no arguments or pressures.

"I was so happy after that, and I went back to sleep thinking that I was the next Galileo or something. Of course, when I got older, I learned the moon had just moved to the opposite side of the sky, and it was probably behind my head that whole time, without me realizing it." I smiled at this, feeling much better than I did before. "That was one of the best nights of my life."

I looked down at Potter, sitting on the floor in front of me. He was staring at me, looking deep in thought. I blushed a little, thinking that I overdid it with the memory.

But then he surprised me. "Why'd you tell me all that?" It wasn't unkind, just a question.

"You told me to!" I accused, incredulous.

"No, I mean, you could have stopped at any point. But you still told the whole story," he explained, very alert now. "Why?"

I just looked at him for a moment, wondering if this was a trick question. So I answered with the truth. "I don't know. Why did you tell me all that stuff the other morning?" I retorted.

Ha. He wasn't expecting that. He looked at me with wide eyes, standing up. I did the same, showing I wouldn't let it go. "I told you yesterday."

"That you just needed to tell _someone?_" I asked.

"Does it matter?"

I looked him straight in the eyes. "To me, yes."

He broke his gaze, leaning back against the wall in defeat. I was beginning to think he would just not answer and wait for me to leave, when he spoke. "You were the first person to blatantly tell me how impossible I was," he said quietly. I felt my heart sink. Shit, I was a terrible person.

"I'm sorry," I said softly.

"But that's why I told you, I think. To show you that I'm not," he explained. He leaned down a little, closer to me. I felt my heart race involuntarily. "But the only person I'm really impossible with is you. You seem to bring that out in me," he chuckled.

I was struck with the fact that I was mere inches from James Potter's face. "I really appreciated it," I blurted out.

"What?" he asked, confused. "Being so difficult?"

"You telling me all those things. Whether or not you told me because you just wanted to or because I was a prat," I rushed, "it was a very nice thing to do."

He didn't reply, I just felt his breath on my face.

Oh shit. I wanted him to kiss me. Like right now.

I saw his gaze drop down to my lips so quickly that I may have imagined it. But he did lean in. I couldn't have imagined that.

But right when I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest, a shadow crossed over us. Someone was standing out in the corridor, blocking the light. My head shot to the opening, preparing myself to be caught. How would I ever explain this situation?

But the person wasn't even looking in the room. In fact, there were two people. Fred and Morgan. They just stopped in front of the tapestry and were talking quietly, looking at each other. They were holding hands. They didn't even see us.

"Maybe she just went back to the Heads' dorms," Fred suggested quietly. Oh, they were talking about me.

"I suppose," Morgan sighed. "I'll just talk to her tomorrow, then. What about James?"

I shot Potter a look. But he wasn't even looking at them. He was still staring at me, the same burning look in his eyes.

Merlin help me.

"Eh, I haven't seen him in a few hours," I faintly heard Fred reply. "Come on, Morg. I'll walk you back to the common room."

She sighed again. But this time, it was a happy sigh. "Alright."

The shadow passing over the room signaled to me that they walked away. But I couldn't bring myself to move.

"Erm, I should probably... go," I whispered.

He blinked a few times, then nodded once. "Sure." His voice was all husky. Oh Merlin.

It took a second for me to realize that my feet needed to move. And that the rest of my body needed to follow. But suddenly I was walking away, out into the corridor, my feet pulling me to my dorm room. I must have said the password to the portrait, because I was in my room, falling onto the bed. I pulled the cover on top of me, still wearing my jeans and sweater and shoes, and buried my face in my pillow.

Through my door, I could hear Potter crossing the common room and opening the door to his room. I wondered if he was behind me the whole time I was coming back. What did he think about what just happened? Did anything happen at all?

I desperately wished I could read his mind right now.

* * *

**A/N: **So I just realized that this chapter is _also_ only one point of view... but I don't care! BECAUSE ITS A LONGER CHAPTER. BECAUSE I JUST WANTED TO UPDATE SO BADLY. BECAUSE J&A ARE GETTING ALL FEELINGS-Y AND **HOT**. and BECAUSE **WE LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH**! Seriously, some of your reviews just have me smiling all day! (To Layla - a guest who I couldn't send a reply to - your review was so incredibly nice! Thank you so much!)

Shit, I love you guys. I'm getting too excited. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter! It's one of our favorites.**  
**

Can't wait to update again!


	12. Fix You

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Fix You" belongs to Coldplay. Those beautiful bastards.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Fix You**

"_Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"Abigail King, get your lazy arse out of bed."

I came back into reality, expecting my old dorm and five four-posters, but instead woke up in my usual Head's dorm, greeted by Dom's face inches from mine. That wasn't too different from my previous sleeping arrangements.

I groaned and sat up, pulling the covers closer to my face. "What do you want, Dom?"

She raised an eyebrow at me. "To play for the Holyhead Harpies and live to see one hundred."

"Really, Dom?" I deadpanned. "I mean, what are you doing in my room?"

"I thought you'd like to know that breakfast started fifteen minutes ago."

I gasped and shot out of bed, picking my uniform pieces up off the floor and gathering my things. It didn't usually take me too long to get ready, but I liked a good half hour to eat breakfast. It was my happy time.

I was putting on my socks when I heard Dom ask distractedly, "What happened last night that made you so tired, anyway? I know the party was late, but that doesn't usually bother you…"

I laughed slightly, avoiding her eyes. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

But she was already moving on. "I danced with this _gorgeous _specimen. Harvey Locke. I never thought someone in the dueling club could be so cute…"

I rolled my eyes. I'm pretty sure she kept talking about this guy all the way down to the Great Hall, but I wasn't really listening. I kept replaying the night before over and over in my head. I just didn't know what to think anymore. I guess hating someone is a lot more complicated than one would think. Because I'm pretty sure enemies don't just go around trying to kiss each other. Well, he didn't _try _try to kiss me. But enemies don't usually give off kissy vibes, right?

But that's just a shot in the dark.

Walking into the Great Hall, I could see Hagrid pulling one of the dozen Christmas trees in through the main doors. I smiled slightly, my excitement for the winter holiday growing. I didn't realize it was coming so soon.

Every year, I went back home to spend Christmas with only Uncle Matt. To other people, that might sound a little lonely, but it was my favorite time to spend with him. Every holiday we stay up really late drinking eggnog and watching Muggle films on the television. For some reason, I really liked Muggle things, especially music and movies. And the amount of Christmas films on television around Christmas time was amazing. Uncle Matt and I just hung out over the break. Because he worked a lot over the summer, sometimes it seemed like Christmas is the only time I get to see him.

The usual gang was sitting at our breakfast table. I purposely chose a spot as far away from Potter as I could. The moment I sat down, Morgan said, "Abigail! I was looking all over for you last night? Was everything okay?"

I felt my face flush. What was I supposed to say to her? So I chose the most logical option. I lied. "Erm, yeah. I just got a little tired so I turned in early."

I could feel Potter staring at me. Maybe he looked mad or surprised. But if I looked up now, it would be all over. I would probably crumble into dramatic little pieces. Or turn even redder. If that was even possible.

Fred bumped Morgan's shoulder with his own. "I told you, Morgan. You know, sometimes I think you doubt me."

Morgan was probably going to reply, but Ryan interrupted. "Look, the mails here."

He was right. Even before looking up, I could see the shadows of the owls flying above everyone's heads. But I wasn't expecting an envelope to fall onto my plate.

I jumped slightly. For some reason, I looked around me. As if the owl had confused me with someone else. But all that did was cause me to look at Potter. He was still staring at me. For Merlin's sake. The guy could at least use words.

But then I remembered my letter and looked away. I tore the envelope open and began to read. When I recognized my uncle's writing, my heart fell.

_Dear kiddo,_

_I'm sure you're very surprised at this letter, since you probably weren't expecting one until Friday, when I usually write you. But I have some news. It's not necessarily good or bad, I suppose. _

_I have been talking with my boss recently and he's invited me to do some recon for the Ministry in America! Hopefully you understand how big of an opportunity this is for me. This could mean a promotion for me and maybe a new location. Now, I don't know if this means I'll be working in America in the future, but this could really help us out. _

_But there is, unfortunately, a downside to this. The trip actually starts in a week and ends on the fourth of January. That would mean that you can't come home for Christmas holiday this year. I know you're probably really upset with me, but remember how great this opportunity is. I'll write you every day while I'm gone. _

_Please try not to be too mad at me, but this could put me in a really good place at work. It seems bad now, but things can only get better. I promise._

_ Love you, _

_ Uncle Matt_

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

Morgan and Fred were whispering over on their side of the table. Mitchell and Ryan were trying to see who could eat more eggs in thirty seconds. Molly and Dominique were pointing at some guy over at the Ravenclaw table.

But no one else seemed to notice that King's hands were shaking while she read her letter.

Her eyes were dancing across the page reading, her brows becoming more furrowed as she read on. Then her eyes just stopped at the bottom of the page. She must have finished reading, but she just sat there.

I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed her distress. They were all still doing their own things.

All of a sudden, King crumbled the letter into a ball. Now all of our friends looked. And then, with upset, determined movements, she placed the ball onto her plate, flicked her wand, set the shriveled letter on fire, and walked calmly out of the Great Hall.

We all exchanged glances. Dom was the first to speak. "Uh oh," she said. "She only sets things on fire when she's _really _upset." She said this like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"What should we do?" Molly questioned.

"Maybe someone should go talk to her," Ryan suggested.

I shook my head. "This is King we're talking about," I objected. "Let her cool off."

Everyone at the table looked to me in surprise. After a few moments of silence, it started to get to me. "What?" I ground out. "What is it?"

Ryan laughed slightly. "Well, like you said, mate. This is Abigail we're talking about. Shouldn't you be thinking of scheme's to aggravate her even more?" The others chuckled or smiled at this, but anger boiled in my veins.

"Oh, piss off, would you?" The aggravation in my voice surprised everyone sitting in the general area, especially those I was regarding. "I know King and I don't get on very easily, but she's seems hurt, alright? I am human, you know."

Laughing uncomfortably, obviously trying to ease the tension and cool me off, Mitch told me, "Of course we know that – we're your mates, after all. It's just…well, like you said, you and King don't usually get on like the rest of us do. I think Ryan just thought – "

" – That I would want to make someone who already clearly feels like crap even worse?" I cut in, even more annoyed than before. I stood up from the table, striding out of the Great Hall. I could faintly hear Dom behind me telling the others, "Honestly, he's a bit dramatic for a guy…"

And after all of the accusations of my friends and the hurt I felt in return – after everything has happened – the only thing imprinted on my brain was the look of devastation of Abigail King's face when she finished reading that letter, while she walked dejectedly out of the Great Hall.

What in the sodding hell is up with that?

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

After leaving breakfast, I went back to my room. I sat on my bed, expecting the waterworks to come, but they never came. I think I was too angry to cry. I was hurt and disappointed, but I couldn't cry. To be honest, I felt really depressed.

Of course, the term depression made it sound medical, and ugly, and serious, but it really wasn't. This was not a story about dark pasts and struggling recoveries. I was just another, simple, moody teenager who was going through a rough time. I might have even been PMSing.

Either way. Not a big deal.

But at the time, it seemed like one. I could barely focus on anything. I spent the weekend in my room doing homework, afraid that if I talked to anyone, I would end up snapping at them and feeling even worse. I even missed the _Quidditch game!_ Not even quidditch could get me the least bit enthusiastic, seeing as it just reminded me of the midnight quidditch one-on-one I would not be playing with Uncle Matt that year.

I sighed, thinking about this loss of quidditch-family-fun-time while sitting on my bed. It was Sunday, and I was refusing to go out with Dom, Molly, Morgan, and whichever of the guys who might have been going. They were not shocked to hear me turn down their invitation, having noticed my slightly antisocial state of mind. I reassured them I just wanted to get some studying done for the Potions exam on Monday.

Remembering this all of a sudden, I climbed out of bed and grabbed my books, stuck them in a random messenger bag that had been discarded on the ground of the Heads common room (I wasn't even sure if it was mine or Potter's) and made my way down to the library. Our latest unit required us to check out some book none of us owned called _A Complete History of Russian Remedies. _That's what we were being tested on. I hadn't started reading it.

Nothing can cheer up a moody teenage girl like an eight hundred page Potions book.

Yay.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

I was in a secluded corner of the library trying to finish up my Charms essay. It was pretty hard to find a secluded area in the library, seeing as half of the Hogwarts population was at Hogsmeade and the other half was coincidentally in the library.

I personally thought it was one of the times of the year when teachers performed their special talent of loading as much work on students as they could before we would break for holiday. It's really quite uncanny how they do that. And I wished they wouldn't.

Homework drove me, like any sensible person, mad.

Anyway, I was sitting there, practically about to cry from boredom and not being able to focus at all on my schoolwork, when I heard my name called.

"Oi! James!"

I turned around and saw the one and only Mitch Wood standing there with parchment, quills, and plenty of schoolbooks in his arms.

Boy was I happy to see him. And feeling slightly crazy, as he was about to find out.

"Mitchell!" I said loudly – loudly enough for Madame Davis to shush me – and threw my arms around him dramatically, causing him to mumble "geroffovme" and push me away. Nevertheless, he sat down beside in my secluded corner, probably more to avoid the eyes staring at us because of the scene we (Mitchell would probably argue that it was only I) made.

"What is it, James?" Mitchell asked exasperatedly. "And it better be good because I have to finish this assignment before tonight," he added, blushing slightly.

"Oh, do you? Got a big date or something?" I asked. The blush spread to his neck. "You _do! _Who's the lucky lady?"

He glared at me for a moment before answering. "Rebecca Matthews." I nodded my head in understanding. Though I wasn't friends with her, I could picture her. She was very pretty. _Good for Mitch, _I thought. "Anyway, what is it that you wanted?"

I quickly wracked my brain for an excuse, but came up with none. "Nothing, I just didn't want to do this assignment," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Mitch sighed, but spread out his work around him and got to work. I thought that maybe having a good influence would convince me to get more work done, but that didn't play out. All of a sudden a thought crossed my mind. I tried to forget about it, but as soon as the thought entered my brain, I couldn't get it out.

I held my breath for a moment, then let it all out in a huff. "Mitch…" I started.

He looked up from his work, looking annoyed that I was interrupting him, but after a second, he seemed kind of worried. "What's up, mate?"

I almost didn't answer, but I couldn't bring myself to let it go. "Have…have you talked to King since the other morning?" I thought back to the night of the party when I was in the closet with her. For some reason, it felt like things had changed between the two of us that night. I could feel my ears heating up.

Mitch placed his quill lightly on the table before answering. "No, I haven't seen her. She did seem pretty upset." Suddenly, Mitch looked at me with such a calculating stare that I had to look away. He was silent for a few moments, then said in an understanding tone, "Are you worried about her?"

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck before answering the same question I had been asking myself all day. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King **

As I walked into the library, I saw Mitchell leaving it. I was about to duck away somewhere and avoid him before I realized how silly I was being. This was Mitch, not Potter.

"Hey, Mitch," I said, with a small wave. He seemed a little surprised that I was out and about, but smiled anyway and walked over.

"Abigail! I was just talking about you," he said. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh…" He mumbled, noticing the somewhat awkward statement. "Well…erm…hm. How are you feeling?" he asked kindly.

I was still surprised by his previous statement and realized he must have been talking to the girls. Suddenly it made me feel better that someone was worrying about me. I said, "Fine. Well… better, I think."

He paused for a moment and said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I realized then how much I valued Mitchell's friendship. He was such a great guy, one of the few out there that you could really open up to. I smiled a little and said, "Well, my plans for break just changed last minute and I was really looking forward to it."

He nodded in understanding and was about to say something when he glanced at his watch. I laughed. "Am I boring you, Mitch?" I said, good humouredly.

"No, no! It's just… I actually have a date," he said, pinking in his cheeks.

"Oh, do you now?" I said. "Well you better hop to it then. Don't want to be late!"

"Right. First impressions and all that." He started to walk off, but I called after him.

"Mitch!" He turned back and raised his eyebrows. "If you see the girls, tell them thanks for being so thoughtful."

"Sorry?" he said, clearly confused.

Now I was too. "Erm… weren't you just talking about me with them?"

"Well, they have been awfully worried that you haven't been around for a while…But I was actually talking to James," he replied. He checked his watch and quickly excused himself, rushing back to his dorm.

But I couldn't be bothered by his departure. I was stuck in the middle of the library corridor, my mind swirling of James Potter worrying about me.

A couple of hours later, I sat on the couch in the Heads dorm. My feet were propped up on a coffee table and I was staring at the fire when I heard Potter come in the door. I sunk down a little in the cushions, hoping he wouldn't notice me. But when he sat down directly next to me and pulled his feet up like mine, I figured he probably saw me. I sighed.

I could feel him looking at me as I watched the fire, and all of a sudden my thoughts went straight to that night at the party when we almost kissed. He had looked at me like never before that night. I felt my face heat up, praying he wouldn't notice.

"Are you okay?" he said. Oh shit. He saw me blush.

I cleared my throat quickly. "What do you mean?"

He looked away and I felt myself breathe again. "The other morning…you seemed upset. The girls have been worried sick about you," he said softly. Merlin, his voice was so nice.

"Oh," I said in relief. So we weren't talking about my reddening face. But I wasn't just going to just submit to him and tell him all about my lack of holiday plans. That wasn't my style. "Yeah, well I was having a bad morning."

"Oh, come on, King. That wasn't just a bad morning," he said accusatory. "I know you better than that."

All of a sudden I was angry. Angry at my uncle. Angry that I hadn't finished my Potions essay. Angry that, of all people, Potter was the only one who seemed truly worried about me. And angry at what he had just said.

My head whipped around to glare at him. "Merlin, you're so irritating," I shot at him. "Do you _really _know me better than that? You don't."

I started straight in his eyes, waiting for him to back down. Better yet, I wanted him to fight back. But he didn't.

I looked away, but I still felt his eyes linger on my face. We sat there in silence for what could have been hours. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but we still said nothing. Until he _did._

"What's your favorite color?"

That was not what I was expecting to get as a reply. I slowly looked at him, confused. "Pardon?"

"I _said_," he repeated, "What's your favorite color?"

I scoffed, trying to cover up my abashment. "This is ridiculous. What does this have to do with anything?"

"You said that I don't know you," he said slowly. "Well, this is me trying to get to know you. I ask a question, you ask a question. It's only fair."

I contemplated this for a moment before realizing something, plainly put, life changing. I realized that I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to know _his _favorite color, I wanted to know his scars – inside and out. He was taking this step closer to me, and I would let him. I wanted him to know _me. _And with my heart racing inside my chest, I took that step too.

"Green. My favorite color is green."

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

Her favorite color is green. I told her mine is blue.

Her middle name is Evelyn. I told her mine is Sirius. She laughed at me because she said I was never serious.

Her favorite fruit is strawberries. Mine too. We both hate how the seeds get stuck in your teeth afterwards, but we agreed that it's worth it.

I learned that she has a thing for Muggle music and she can't stand the Weird Sisters. I hate them too.

She told me a lot about her that night, and in return, I told her about me. But some of the things I learned that night were not things we said. Like that she cracks her knuckles when she's concentrating and that her laugh is one of the nicest sounds in the world.

And I learned that she can stay up until three in the morning discussing all of her favorite things. Which is what we did.

* * *

**A/N: I know I said this last week, but this is also one of my favorite chapters. Haha womp I have to stop saying that. I just really like the ending.  
**

**Anywho, thanks for all the awesome reviews and follows and favorites! You guys are perfect. OH and to Madelyn - Nope, we're not Canadian. I guess we just say random Canadian things ahaha! I don't think "out and about" is really that Canadian, but who knows? Probably depends on where you live.  
**

**Posted this overnight so you all can wake up to a _TL _breakfast. Happy reading!  
**


	13. Shine On

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Shine On" belongs to JET.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Shine On**

"_And if the moon had to run away and all the stars didn't want to play, don't waste the sun on a rainy day. The wind will soon blow it all away."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"I know this may not come to a huge surprise to you all, but lately I have been acting like a huge prat."

I was standing in front of Molly, Dom, and Morgan in the Gryffindor common room, having decided that I should visit them for my sad excuse of an apology. They were sitting down on a couch, looking at me with confused and mildly amused expressions.

"Abigail –" Molly interjected.

"Nope, Mol. Do not interrupt me, I promise this is going somewhere." I cleared my throat dramatically. "As you may know, my uncle wrote me telling me that he couldn't have me for Christmas and I was _severely _pissed off." I was still a tad bitter. "So I responded in the childish way of going to my room and sulking."

At this point, I sat on the floor in front of them, my tone softening. "Guys, I feel ridiculous and stupid that I would ignore you for so long just because I was pissed with my uncle. It wasn't cool at all."

Dom sighed dramatically. "Well it's about time you came crawling back to us." Morgan slapped her. "Ouch! It was a joke…" she said, rubbing her arm.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Molly said.

"Yeah, we totally understood why you were upset," Morgan explained, "We were just worried about you. Are you feeling better?"

I smiled, loving my best friends more than ever. "Well I'm still a little sad about Christmas, but I'm actually feeling really good," I said with a small smile.

Dom narrowed her eyes. "Yeah I kind of noticed you were glowing. You're not pregnant are you?" Morgan slapped her again.

I chuckled but otherwise ignored her, lost in my own thoughts. What happened with Potter the night before was unknown territory. Never in my entire life had I had a conversation like that with him. When the conversation died down into comfortable silence, I realized I wanted him to say more. For the seven years I'd known him, I'd never known as much about him as I learned in one night. And that feeling of want still hadn't gone away.

A few hours later, I was with the girls in Herbology, listening to one of Neville's lectures. Usually in his class we did hands-on type things, but every once and a while he ranted on one of his favorite carnivorous plants or the self-preservation qualities of flesh eating trees.

So naturally, it was the perfect time to do anything but listen.

Morgan had her forehead pressed against the tabletop, tapping out a rhythm with her fingers – something she always did when she was lost in thought. Molly was reading some Muggle book that I knew her father probably didn't approve of. And Dom was writing a letter, her face screwed up in concentration.

And I was staring at Potter's back.

I realize how pathetic and strange this must have looked to anyone else, but my mind was racing. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about the night before and how I felt. I realized that, for the first time in my life, I had no idea how to feel. I was completely out of control, and I didn't even know what to think. But I knew one thing was for sure:

I most certainly didn't hate Potter anymore.

I still wasn't crazy about him (I mean, he's an annoying prat), but for some reason, I didn't hate him.

He was sitting a few rows ahead of my table, propping up his head with his hand. Occasionally he would run a hand through his hair, a habit I had learned to like a little. But I knew that staring at his back would get me nowhere, so I forced myself to look somewhere else – at my hands, at the scratches on the tabletop – and think about something else.

What I ate for breakfast. Did I have to do a lot of homework tonight? The next Prefects rounds. Potter. No! I mean, Uncle Matt. My dormitory. The Weird Sisters. Potter. Ugh!

Merlin, it was no use. I was hopeless.

"Abigail?"

I gasped, startled out of my reverie. Neville was standing in front of me, staring at me with one eyebrow raised. Everyone else was either gone or almost out the door.

"You do realize that I dismissed the class?" he asked.

"Oh! Erm… Of course I did!" I improvised. "I just thought I'd stay behind to… to erm… help you tidy up. Yes that's exactly it."

Neville snorted. "Sure it is. But while you're here, you might as well."

He put me to work, clearing the tables and pushing in chairs. He was at his desk, sorting through some papers, his glasses at the tip of his nose.

"Hey, Neville?" I asked tentatively.

He looked up and said, "What is it?"

"Erm… Have you spoken to my uncle recently?" I wondered if he knew about me not going home for the holiday.

"As a matter of fact, I have." He offered nothing more.

"So?" I prompted.

He sighed. "So, what, Abigail? I know you're wondering if I know about him going to America for the holiday, and I do. I just don't know what you want me to do about it."

My face flushed in frustration. "It's just… Isn't he being totally selfish and unreasonable? I mean, we never miss a holiday together!" My voice cracked a little on the last part.

Neville's face softened. "Come sit down," he said, pointing to a chair in front of his desk.

_No, I don't want to sit down, _I thought stubbornly. _You're being no help at all. _But I sat down anyway.

"Alright, now listen to me very carefully," he said in a soft, yet firm voice. "Matt is one of my best friends, and you are both like family to me. So I can easily say this: Your uncle loves you very much. Everything he does, he does it to help you. And if he thinks that going to America is going to somehow make your life better, then by all means, let him go. Do you understand?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I knew deep down that Neville was right. I hate it when he's right.

"And if you're being honest, I think you would say that Matt is not being the selfish one here," he said with a pointed look.

I sighed. "Yeah I know. It's just easier to blame him."

"Isn't that always the way?" Neville said. He sat up straighter, looking happy with himself. "Now, where would you be in life if you didn't have a close family friend and mentor to bring you back to normal when life seems dark and lonely?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "I know, I know. Abigail's wrong. Neville's right. The balance of the world is restored."

"And don't you forget it."

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

I don't think I'd ever experienced such a long day.

All of my classes seemed to drag on and on. I couldn't concentrate on anything for some reason. Well, that was a lie – I knew the reason. King. Ever since the night before, she had worked her way into my mind with her favorite color, middle name, and her hate for the Weird Sisters.

It was bloody annoying!

Well, not her hate for the Weird Sisters – just the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about her. I mean, that's cheesy, right? It seems cheesy. _I couldn't stop thinking about her. _Merlin, I was turning into a sap.

But honestly, I kept thinking back to last night. Talking with her might have been the most fun I'd had in a while. I didn't know what I would say to her next time we talked. Maybe we peaked the night before and it would be awkward in daylight.

I didn't have to wait long to find out.

She walked into our common room, fishing through her bag. She probably didn't see me on the couch. "Speak of the devil," I remarked.

She turned to face me with an eyebrow raised. "Had you been speaking at all?"

I realized my poor choice of words. "Nevermind," I said lightly, hoping she wouldn't think too much into it. "So… how are you?" _How _are _you? _Merlin.

She seemed a little surprised, but she laughed a little and said, "I'm good. I was just off talking to Neville."

"Oh, that's good…" I trailed off. I didn't know what else to say. But I didn't have to.

King got a kind of serious expression on her face. "Look, Potter. About last night-"

At that moment, Dominique burst through the doors, exclaiming, "Why Abigail King, do I have some news for you!"

King looked a little annoyed but faced her and said, "Alright, Dom. Spit it out."

Dom was almost jumping with excitement. "You, my darling, are going to be spending Christmas with the Weasleys and the Potters!"

"What?" King and I asked at the same time.

"Well," she explained, "I wrote a letter to my mum this afternoon, and she said she would love for us to have you! I know you don't want to stay here for the holiday, even if you might say otherwise. That would be depressing and sad," she said matter-of-factly.

"I suppose it would be," King said, glancing at me. I shrugged, letting her know I had nothing to do with it.

"So you will come stay at Shell Cottage with me and we'll all spend Christmas at mine and then we'll go to the Potters' for New Year's Eve. Right, James?" Dom asked me.

I snorted. "Don't ask me. I didn't know we were hosting New Years until five seconds ago."

Dom sighed in mock pity. "Oh, cousin. Forever out of the loop." She turned to King. "Abigail, it's going to be so much fun! Even Morgan's coming to both parties. She just got it cleared by her parents… It's okay that I asked if you could come, right?"

"Of course! And you're right – who wants to stay at school for the holiday?" She smiled widely, obviously excited for the upcoming trip.

"Wonderful!" Dom clapped her hands once. "I'll go write my mum. I'll see you tomorrow, lovely. Bye James!" And she was gone as quickly as she came.

King and I just kind of stared at each other. It was amazing how quiet everything got when Dominique left a room.

"Well," she said.

I laughed. "Yeah. Good ol' Dom. At least now you can experience a true Weasley-Potter holiday," I said.

"Should I be scared?"

"Only if you're opposed to treacle tarts and never-ending games of Exploding Snap," I said mischievously.

She laughed. "I _do _love treacle tarts." She walked to her door, but I called back to her, remembering something.

"King."

She turned back. "Yeah?"

"You were saying something. Before Dom came in…" I cleared my throat. "About last night."

She flushed a little. "Oh, right." And then she said, quickly, "I just wanted to say that I had fun."

And like that, she rushed into her room, closed the door behind her, and was gone.

I exhaled, smiling, and flopped back onto the couch.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, so this is sort of a filler/transitional chapter but its necessary. Whatchagonnado. Big thank you to all our new readers for favoriting/reviewing/following! You have to understand how it makes my day when I get a new email notification saying that someone has done one of those things.

So, again I apologize for the shortness and fillerness of this chapter. But hold on, guys. Its about to get bananas.

PS- Would anyone be interested in doing any fanart? We'd love to post some links on our profile, if anyone is feeling creative!


	14. Welcome Home

**A/N: THERE ARE NO WORDS. I'M SOOOOO SORRY I FORGOT TO UPDATE! I'm still on summer break so I'm having trouble keeping track of the days. I thought TODAY was Friday. Womp.  
**

* * *

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Welcome Home" belongs to Radical Face.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Welcome Home**

"_Sheets are swaying on an old clothesline, like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass. It was never much but we made the most. Welcome home."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

Before I knew it, three days had passed and Dominique, her brother Louis, and I were off to Shell Cottage. I had packed in a hurry, throwing random articles of clothing into my trunk and hoping to Merlin that I remembered everything.

When we arrived, I was stunned into silence. Shell Cottage had to have been the most interesting and unique house I'd ever seen. It was a humble house, big enough for the five people that normally lived there but small enough to seem cozy. There were tiny shells in the wall and the sand was everywhere. But the thing that I loved most was the view. I had never really been to a beach. The only beach-like place I had ever been to was the shore of the Black Lake at Hogwarts – and somehow I'm pretty sure that didn't count.

I couldn't gaze at the view for too long before the three of us were ushered inside by Dom's parents. Fleur Weasley was a beautiful woman with long, silvery-blond hair. As she moved us inside the house, she greeted her children in a mixture of French and English and gave me a hug, welcoming me into her home. Dom's dad, Bill, welcomed us all as well, a big smile gracing his scarred face. I had seen them both in pictures before but had surprisingly never met them in person. I guess most of my time over the holidays was focused on just me and my uncle.

"_Bienvenue, _Abigail. 'Eet is so nice to finally meet you," Fleur said once we finally got inside.

"You too, Mrs. Weasley," I replied. "Thank you so much for letting me stay here over the holidays."

"It's our pleasure," Bill answered with a kind smile. Dom's brother, Louis, had already apparently gotten used to being home and was making himself a sandwich across the room. Ah, pubescent teenage boys. So hungry.

"Merlin, Lou, take it easy," Dom commented with a disgusted look. I laughed. "The food's not going anywhere."

He took a bite of his sandwich and shot her a look. "Oh, hey, Mum," Louis suddenly said, forgetting about Dom. "I've invited one of my mates for New Year's at the Potters. He knows Al, too…" He trailed off. Mrs. Weasley asked him something in French, and he responded.

Sensing that we were no longer needed, Dom cleared her throat. "Alright well I'm going to show Abigail her room," Dom said, moving towards the stairs. She led me upstairs and down a hall, stopping at a door on the left. I looked inside and saw a small room fashioned with a large bed and a desk. The walls were painted blue.

"And this was Victoire's room?" I asked, moving inside. I sat down on the bed.

"Yeah," Dom said from the doorway. "She moved out over the summer. She finally moved in with Teddy Lupin. Do you remember him?"

I looked at the bedside table and saw a picture frame. Inside it were two people – one I recognized as Victoire and the other was a tall man with blue hair. They were dancing at what looked like a wedding reception.

"Oh, yeah! I haven't seen him since I was a fourth year. And they're still together?" I asked. I remember Dom teasing Victoire for weeks when they started dating.

"Yeah," she said with a smile, moving to sit on the bed with me. "I reckon he's going to propose soon."

"Wow! Good for them."

"Yeah, I just wish he'd get a move on. The whole family's been waiting for years, practically," she laughed.

I turned to face her on the bed, realizing how long it had been since we last had a "girl talk." I'd been so busy with all the different Head duties that we hadn't talked in a while.

"Well, what about you, Dom? Had any suitors lately?" Somehow, Dominique always seemed to have a guy going after her. Not that I blamed them, she was one of the prettiest girls in our year. Needless to say, Dom dated quite a lot.

She seemed excited to talk about it. "Actually, yes. Before we left today, Brian Corner asked if he could write me over holiday," she said with a sly smile.

"Brian Corner!" I said with surprise. "He's quite the catch, isn't he?"

I'd never really talked to Brian before, but all I needed to know about him I heard through the rumor mill. From what I'd heard, he was a lady's man, but was fond of the "date-and-dump" technique.

"I know what you're thinking, Abigail," she said with a knowing look, "but I know what I'm doing. I'm not exactly looking for a long term relationship. You know me."

I crossed my legs and frowned. "I suppose. But you _do _date a lot of boys. It's just… have you ever thought of something more…"

"Serious?" she said, picking at the bedspread. "I know I'll find the right guy eventually. Honestly, I think that's why I date around so much. Because, who knows?" she asked seriously. "I could end up falling for some random bloke or the guy I'm standing next to. But I would never know that if I didn't go for it." She looked right at me and said, "Sometimes the right person is standing right in front of you without you realizing it."

I broke her gaze and focused on the bedspread. "Wow. I've never heard you talk like that before."

Without looking up, I could tell Dom was still looking at me pointedly. "Well, maybe I've never had to say it before."

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

I never realized how much I missed home until I went home for the holidays. It made me appreciate the little things about my house. Like how the books in Dad's shelves seemed to multiply every week, how Mum always had music playing on her Muggle record player, or the fact that the house had a certain smell that was simply home.

When Al, Lily, and I walked through the front door, Mum and Dad were in the kitchen. Mum was sitting on a bar stool while Dad washed the dishes by hand. They smiled when they saw us.

"Hey Harry, whose that tall bloke behind James?" Mum said with a smirk.

"I don't know," my dad said, drying his hands. "He kind of looks like me. It's a little weird."

Al laughed and hugged our parents. "Come on, I haven't gotten that tall. It's only been a couple months."

Lily hopped onto a bar stool next to Mum. "I swear, Al, you're going to be even taller than James."

I scoffed. "Hell, no. I'm – "

"Language," Mum interjected.

"_Heck _no. There's no way you're going to beat my growth spurt record."

"You wait and see," Al said, pointing tauntingly at me. "Oh hey, Dad, I just remembered! Fred taught me this new Quidditch move that he said will help me get Seeker next year when MacDonald leaves. You want to see it?" He gestured to the backyard.

"Yeah, sure kiddo." Dad clapped me on the back when he walked by. "You coming, Head Boy?"

"No thanks. I've helped him with this move so much, I could do it in my sleep," I laughed.

"Fair enough," he said. Lily grabbed his hand, following Al out into the backyard.

I leaned against the doorway and watched my siblings in the backyard. They weren't that much younger than me, but sometimes I felt decades older than them. I was suddenly hit with this feeling that things weren't as simple as they used to be. Ever since the term had started, things had been crazy. All the Head Boy duties, Quidditch, and well, King too. But I couldn't feel unhappy about it if I tried. Maybe simple wasn't always the best thing.

"Earth to Head Boy…" my mum said. "What? No love for your mother?"

I smiled, snapping out of my reverie. I went up and hugged her. "Hey, Mum. Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Pretty dangerous," she cracked. She patted the stool next to her, and I sat down. "How's my favorite Head Boy? Any gray hair? They say that great leaders tend to go gray in their first couple months."

I laughed. "No, I think I'm good. I'm doing really good, actually." I smiled, pulling a hand through my hair.

She raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Oh. _Oh._" She grinned. "I see how it is."

I glanced at her. "You see how what is?"

She nudged me with her elbow. "Who is she?"

"She? What? That's not… There is no she." My fingers tapped the table.

"James Sirius Potter, don't lie to your mother!" she mock-scolded. "Besides, you have a nervous twitch." She pointed to my tapping fingers. I put my hands in my lap.

"It's just… It's King. I mean, Abigail."

"Head Girl Abigail King?" she asked, incredulous.

"I mean, there's nothing going on. At all. We're just friends," I stated.

She gave me a knowing look. "Just friends? I thought you disliked her."

"Yeah, well, I don't anymore," I shot back. "That doesn't mean anything."

"Uh-huh," Mum deadpanned. Lily, Al, and Dad came back inside, talking about Quidditch and laughing. "You sure that's it? You're getting a little defensive there, kiddo," she pointed out, smirking.

"Merlin, I've been home for ten minutes, Mum. You'd think you were an Auror or something. You know what? I'm going to my bedroom where no one will _interrogate _me."

I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, trying to block out my mother's laughter.

"What's up with him?" I heard my dad say down in the kitchen.

She ended her laughter with a long sigh. "Oh, _nothing,_" she said. "Just Potter boys and their love of ginger women."

I slammed my bedroom door.

* * *

**A/N:** Again, I am sooo sorry. Thanks so much to the Guest who wrote a review reminding me. Seriously, a thousand gold stars to you.

Anyway, no real interaction between them this chapter, but we get to see them at the Potter's and the Weasley's. I hope we did the parents justice.

Until next week, then. I promise it will be on time!


	15. Talk

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Talk" belongs to Coldplay.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Talk**

"_Are you lost or incomplete? Do you feel like a puzzle, you can't find your missing piece?"_

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

You would think that being home on holiday would give a guy some advantages. Like sleeping in late. But _no, _my family couldn't have any of that.

Though I was bitter from waking up at nine in the morning, I could only care for a minute before I realized it was Christmas morning. But it was also my birthday, so I guess that's pretty nice too.

"Happy birthday, Jamie! And happy Christmas!" Lily cried, jumping on my bed. She was already showered and dressed which gave me the feeling that I was slacking behind everyone.

"Thanks, Lils. But call me Jamie one more time, and this will be your last Christmas," I replied drowsily, shoving her off my bed.

She punched me lightly on the shoulder. "Look, I don't want to burst the whole birthday-Christmas bubble, but we're due at Shell Cottage in, like, twenty minutes."

"Shit. Okay, right." I started pacing around my room, looking for clothes.

As Lily walked out of my bedroom, she called after her, "Mum and Dad wanted me to tell you we're going to do your birthday presents along with Christmas presents like usual. Oh yeah, and don't forget to bring your presents for the family!"

She didn't have to remind me. I'd spent the past couple days picking out presents for all my cousins. I'd spent a little more time worrying about another present in particular.

When we arrived to Shell Cottage a little while later, I could see most of the family and friends had already arrived. The kitchen was packed with people, and I could smell the delicious food my grandma had probably been preparing for hours.

Walking through the front door, I shouted, "Happy Christmas!"

I was greeted back with a chorus of "Happy Christmases" but, like every Christmas, Fred had to take it even further.

He stepped up onto a chair and said, "But it's not only Christmas…its James's birthday!" He pointed menacingly at me. "You know what that means! _Birthday hugs!_" And he launched.

I almost fell over, but I managed to stay on my feet and survive Fred's birthday hug. Fred started this tradition when we were eight or nine. At that point of my life, I was convinced everyone had cooties and despised hugs. So, of course, Fred figured it would be hysterical to get everyone in the room to hug me. But I guess the tradition stuck.

Soon, most of my family came up to hug me and wish me happy birthday. Aunt Fleur kissed me on both cheeks, Grandma hugged me and exclaimed how she could still remember the day I was born. At some point, so many people were giving me hugs that I couldn't keep track. So when Dom turned me around and shoved, saying, "Don't miss _anyone,_" I didn't really think twice.

But then I was holding someone who was definitely _not _a family member and smelled like something really nice I could only get from the Heads dorms.

I pulled back quickly and saw the slightly pink face of Abigail King. "King," I exclaimed. I was still holding King's – no, Abigail's shoulders. "Oh erm… sorry," I said, not feeling sorry at all.

She cleared her throat. "It's okay."

She glanced around and I realized several people were watching the spectacle. I caught the blue hair of Teddy Lupin and raised a hand to my favorite cousin. He made a face that said, _we'll talk later. _Right.

"So why didn't you ever mention today was your birthday?" Abigail said. I noticed for the first time that she was wearing a light green jumper that made her hair look especially red. Her hair was pulled back low on her neck.

I blinked. "Oh, well, it never came up."

She smiled, rolling her eyes. "Well, happy birthday then, Potter."

"Thanks." She had really long eyelashes. And a really nice mouth. I snapped my gaze back up to her eyes and realized she was blushing.

"Right. Well I should probably go find Dom. I could easily get lost among all these gingers," Abigail rambled. And then she moved into the crowd.

I didn't realize I was watching her leave until Teddy stepped into my line of sight.

"Mate. _Honestly._" He shook his head.

"What?" I asked, defensively.

"It's time for a man-to-man."

Ted led me upstairs, stopping at the end of the hallway. He crossed his arms over his chest, and narrowed his eyes at me in mock-seriousness.

"So who is she?" I felt like I'd been hearing that a lot lately.

"Who?" I glanced down the hallway, making sure we were alone.

He scoffed. "The girl you were all moony-eyed over downstairs."

I ignored that. "That's Abigail King, my…" I didn't know what to call her. "She's Head Girl. And I wasn't all moony-eyed."

"_Oh._ That's the girl your mum was telling me about," he replied, laughing.

"Seriously?" I deadpanned. "Is nothing sacred?"

"I'm not surprised really," he said with a knowing smile. "The Heads positions are famous for hookups." He laughed. "I'm surprised they even let the Heads have joint dorms anymore."

"We're not hooking up."

He ignored me. "So then what's going on between the two of you?" he asked pointedly.

I paused, thinking about his question. What _was _going on between us? Things had been really good between us lately. We rarely fought anymore, and even had serious conversations. I started thinking of her as 'Abigail' instead of 'King.' I realized the more I talked to her, the more I wanted to know about her.

But half of the time I couldn't even concentrate around her. I was constantly staring at her freckles, or her hair, or her smile. And I counted on her smile. It was like her smiling or laughing made the day better or something.

"I just…" I started, feeling lost for words. "I always feel really weird around her. But not in a bad way. Like, good weird, I guess." I pulled a hand through my hair in frustration.

Ted let out a booming laugh. It was so loud that I looked down the hallway to make sure no one came rushing up into our conversation. "Merlin, James," he chuckled. "You make it sound like you've never fancied a girl before."

My eyes widened. "Fancy her?"

He nodded, smiling. "And by the looks of things downstairs, you fancy the pants off this girl."

I wanted to tell Ted he was wrong, he was just being ridiculous. But I realized I couldn't. Because he was right. I fancied her. Abigail King.

"Why haven't you told her?" Ted asked, snapping me out of it.

Caught off guard, I retorted, "Why haven't you proposed to Vic yet?"

He laughed, sliding his hand into one of his pockets. "Fair enough."

"Besides," I continued, "This is sort of a new development."

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I had lost Dom among the throngs of people a little while back, so I wandered into Shell Cottage's sitting room. Earlier in the day, we all helped clear out the furniture and set up tables along the walls. Some people were even dancing in the middle of the room. I noticed Morgan and Fred doing a weird jig together, even though the song playing was slow. Molly sat at a table near them, booing at their dancing skills. I could hear their laughter from across the room.

I smiled, leaning against the wall near a table full of Christmas presents. My back hit something sharp, and I realized I leaned into a picture frame. Actually, practically the whole wall was covered in photos. Frame after frame showed the Weasleys and the Potters and their friends.

I looked around me, taking in the atmosphere. I had never been to a holiday party like this before, with so many people who all knew each other. Whether or not they were blood relatives, everyone here was family.

I sighed at myself, recognizing the prick of tears in my eyes. I squinted my eyes for a moment, willing the tears to go away. I just really missed my uncle. We'd never spent a Christmas apart. But I couldn't help but still feel upset with him for going away.

Just as my tears passed, I heard a voice to my left. "I almost thought you were one of my nieces with that red hair of yours." James's dad cracked a smile and said, "I'm Harry, by the way."

I actually laughed out loud, all traces of sadness gone. "I know. I'm Abigail."

"I know," he replied, laughing. When he laughed, he sounded almost exactly like James. "Are you having a good time?"

"I am," I said. "It's so…"

"Crowded? Chaotic?"

"Different than what I'm used to," I answered, with a smile. "Usually it's just me and my uncle on Christmas morning. Just… not this year." I frowned.

"How come?" he asked kindly.

"He's in America, actually. Some work thing." I looked over at the man who looked just like James. Only his eyes were green, rather than James's brown ones. I found myself explaining my dilemma to him. "It's kind of silly. It's just... we've never spent a Christmas apart. He says this work in America could really help us out, but I'm still sad that he's not here with me."

I felt a little embarrassed at my outburst of honesty, but he just nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm sure your uncle is just as sad about being away from you. But if I know anything, it's that not even distance can break a family apart."

"Thank you," I said earnestly.

Before I could think of what to say next, I heard James come up behind me and say, "Dad, you're not boring King with old War stories are you?"

"I _do _have this weird scar," he joked with his son.

James shook his head at the bad joke and smiled. "Mum's looking for you."

"Duty calls." And he was gone.

I turned to face James. "Wow. So that's Harry Potter."

"Yup. That's my dad," he said, looking after him, smiling.

We were silent for a few moments. James might have had a problem with how his parents' fame affected his life, but it was obvious that he loved his dad a lot.

I turned around and picked up a box from the gifts table. I had wrapped it a couple days ago, but was still nervous to give it. I felt silly for thinking about a gift so much, but I handed it to him anyway.

I took a deep breath. "Happy Christmas-slash-birthday, Potter."

He looked surprised to get a gift from me, but pulled of the paper and slid the top off. "Whoa," he murmured.

It was an old-fashioned Muggle Polaroid camera – the kind that developed the film right after you took the picture. I'd always had a weird fascination with Muggle things.

He pulled it out of the box and his face lit up. "This is brilliant, King. Merlin, thank you."

I flushed in satisfaction. Ignoring the warm feeling that was spreading to my feet, I showed him how to use the camera. When we got it working, he immediately started taking pictures of the people in the room. A shot of his parents laughing, one of Morgan and Fred goofing off. I just smiled, taking him in.

It was foreign to me, experiencing James in this setting. He seemed so comfortable – happy in a way that was different than his attitude at school.

I think for the first time, surrounded by his family and friends, I saw the true James Potter. In all the time I'd known him, I'd underestimated James's ability to love other people. I'd always pegged him as arrogant and self-centered, but I was wrong. He was a son. A brother. A cousin. A friend.

And I realized that I never wanted to lose him.

I heard a click directly in front of me, snapping me out of my reverie. He had taken a picture of me when I wasn't paying attention.

"Where'd you go, King?" he asked softly, lowering the camera. His eyes were focused on my face.

"Sorry?" I asked, confused.

"It's just this thing you do," he said. He let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Sometimes it looks like you're thinking so hard, you'll get lost inside your head."

Before I could respond to this, he put the camera down and, with a very determined look on his face, said, "Stay right here."

As he walked away, I realized I probably had a very stupid look on my face. He caught me so off-guard with his words, I'm sure my jaw had dropped. No one had ever pegged me so accurately. Most of the time, I _did _feel lost inside my head. It made my heart race, realizing James could see this just by looking at me. When did I even start calling him James in my head?

And then he was standing in front of me again, holding something behind his back and looking very proud of himself. "So you don't get lost," he said, and handed it to me.

I gasped. It was a beautifully bound journal. It was dark blue leather with silver pages and a buckle on the front. It looked old, but it had never been written in.

"Merlin," I breathed. "It's beautiful." I slid my hand across a smooth page.

He smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it. Thank you." And without thinking, I stood on my tiptoes, kissed his cheek, and hugged him. It wasn't like the hug from earlier that morning. Then, it was so quick and had caught me so off-guard that I didn't even realize what was happening until it was over. Now, I definitely realized what was happening.

I felt his hands slowly rest on my back. He smelled like something I only ever smelled in the Heads' dorms. My lips were tingling in a really weird way. I felt a pleasant tightening in my stomach.

And when I let go of him, his face was right there, his eyes burning down into mine. The height difference left me even with his chest, but I couldn't have looked away from his face if I tried. He opened his mouth to say something –

"ABIGAIL KING, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Dom shrieked from across the room. She strutted through the tables, approaching us. "I have been looking – oh." She paused in front of us, raising an eyebrow. "Am I… interrupting something?"

I glanced at James, who had taken a step away, but his hard gaze was focused on his cousin. He took a deep breath. "No, we were just talking," he explained lightly, though his face betrayed his tone. He turned to me. "I…" he started, but shook his head. "I'll see you around, King." And then he was gone.

Dom stood there gaping. She gestured between me and the spot James had previously occupied. "_What _just happened?"

I let out a shallow breath I didn't know I was holding. I looked after him, clutching my new journal. "I honestly don't even know."

* * *

**A/N: **Cue the sexual tension.

I thought I'd post this chapter a few hours early to make up for my forgetting to post the last chapter. Seriously, I still feel bad about that. Haha, anyway... Random question of the chapter: **Who is your favorite character?** We'd be really interested to know since its probably different from writers to readers.

Well, see you guys in a week. Good luck to everyone going back to school. But if it makes you feel any better, we're suffering right along with you.


	16. A Rush of Blood to the Head

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "A Rush of Blood to the Head" belongs to Coldplay.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: A Rush of Blood to the Head**

"_Blame it all upon a rush of blood to the head."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

For the next seven days, all I did was eat, sleep, and write in my journal. Because there was a _lot _I had to think about.

Ever since I had last seen him on Christmas morning, I couldn't stop thinking about James Potter. And it wasn't the normal 'he's a prat', 'I can't believe he's Head Boy', 'he'd better not forget our next Prefects meeting' thoughts. They were the 'he has really nice eyes', 'he smells really good', 'I really liked the way his hands were on my back,' kind of thoughts. And truthfully, I kept replaying the same scene in my head over and over.

I mean, his face was _right _there. I misplace my brain for _one _second and all of a sudden I'm kissing his cheek and hugging him. Sure, I had wanted to thank him for my journal, but I could've just said, "Thanks," or something crazy like that. But then his face was really close and my heart started beating really fast and I got this weird feeling in my stomach.

So I decided that I must be dying.

There was no other explanation. The only reason for me to do something so weird and irrational as that was that I was dying and going insane. The racing heartbeat and stomach irregularity were just side effects of my impending doom. In fact, if I reread my journal entries, I'm sure it would have looked like the confused, incoherent words of a mentally unstable young woman whose days were numbered.

But there could maybe, _possibly _be another way out-there, long-shot reason.

I might… you know… fancy him. A little.

But keep in mind, I might actually just be dying. I wasn't going to rule anything out just yet. I just needed a second opinion. And a third. And a fourth. It's a good thing I had three best friends who kept my mental stability at high standard.

"Abigail, what in Merlin's name are you doing still writing in that journal?" Dom came bursting into my room – well, Victoire's room – with a frantic look on her face, wearing a short black dress.

"Well, I'm really glad you asked that, dearest Dom, because, you see, I have this problem– "

"Look, can't it wait?" She ran over to my mirror and started applying mascara to her blonde eyelashes. "We have to go to the Potters, like, _now._ My parents and Lou already left."

"Oh _shit_." I had forgotten all about going to the Potters for New Year's Eve. Actually, I hadn't even remembered that it was New Year's Eve at all. Great, now I had to face the most probable cause of my death.

I ran over to my suitcase and looked inside. "Really shit," I breathed. "Dom, I don't have anything left to wear. Everything's dirty!"

She glanced at me in the mirror. "Don't freak out. I have a dress you can wear."

"A dress," I deadpanned.

"Yes, a dress. It's a New Year's Eve party," she said to me in a 'duh' tone of voice. Like I'd ever been to a New Year's Eve party before. "The one I have is too small on me so it will probably fit you better."

I bit my lip. "Are you sure? What does it look like?"

She turned around and gave me a look. "It'll look great. Merlin. Since when did you care what you looked like?"

"I think I'm offended," I said, flipping her the bird.

"Just being honest," she replied, making the gesture right back.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Dom and I Apparated to the Potter's house. I was wearing a short, dark blue dress with a tight bodice and ruffled skirt. As we approached the front door, I readjusted the straps and shot Dom a dirty look. She knew how much I hated dresses. But even I couldn't deny that the dress was really pretty.

"Calm down," she said, knocking on the door. "You look amazing."

I made a face at this, but the door opened before I could say anything. "Hey guys!" It was James's sister Lily. She was wearing black pants and a fancy blouse.

I gasped and glared at Dom. "_She's _not wearing a dress. Why'd you make _me _wear a dress?"

"It's nice to see you, too, Abigail," Lily said, laughing. "You look really pretty."

"Told you," Dom sang, walking into the house. "Hey Lils."

"Hey Lily," I grumbled, following Dom into the house. "You look really nice, too."

She colored. "Thanks. But are you sure?" she rambled, looking around nervously. "It's just that… Louis invited Thomas Blake. Oh Merlin, he's beautiful. I hope he notices me…"

Dom snapped her fingers in front of Lily's face. "Lily," she said. "Pull it together."

She giggled nervously. "Right," she said. "Well, come on in, then."

Lily led us into the sitting room where most of the party was gathering. One look into the room and I could tell there were just as many people as there had been at Christmas. Everyone was dressed up, much to my dismay. I'd hoped I could make a point to Dom. Oh well.

I recognized many of the people I had met at Christmas. Ted Lupin and Dom's sister Victoire were talking in one corner. James's parents even waved when we walked in. My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for my other two best friends, but I found James instead.

He was standing on the far side of the room with his brother Albus. James was wearing black pants with a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Merlin, he looked _really _nice in black. His hands were in his pockets. Al was talking animatedly, his hands gesturing wildly, but James wasn't watching him. He was staring at me.

I felt my heart give a little kick and my neck felt warm. Damn side effects. I readjusted one of my straps again, nervously. The scene from Christmas replayed in my head. Staring at me now, James had the same burning look in his eyes that he'd had then.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lily gesture to the backyard. She and Dom started to walk away.

My hand shot out to grab Dom's arm. "Where are you going?" I said, almost panicking.

"Calm down, jumpy. You've been acting weird all day," she said. "I'm just going to play a game of pick-up Quidditch. Lily says Al wants to show me a move."

"Quidditch?" I said, incredulously. "It's dark out! And you're wearing a dress."

"So we'll be especially careful. And wearing a dress wouldn't be the craziest thing I've ever done on a broom," she said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes at the innuendo. "But what about that thing I wanted to talk to you about? It's kind of important."

She waved me off. "I'll talk to you about it later, I promise. Just go find Molly or Morgan. I'm sure they're around here somewhere. Just make sure to come find me after midnight." And then she followed Lily out the backdoor.

I glanced back to where I'd seen James, but he was gone. I searched the room for him, but I didn't see him anywhere. I wandered around the house for a while, looking for a familiar face. Eventually, I spotted Molly's long, straight red hair. She was easy to pick out since most of the other Weasleys had curly or wavy hair. She was standing off in the corner of the room, almost completely obscured by a large plant.

"Molly!" I called, walking over to her. "Merlin, am I glad to see you."

"Shhhh!" she exclaimed. "Not so loud!"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Normally I wouldn't be fazed by your generally odd behavior, but this about takes the cake." Someone walked by us and Molly pulled a leaf in front of her face. "What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm hiding," she whispered.

"From?"

"My dad." A man near us laughed loudly and she shrunk into the plant further.

I laughed quietly. "Can I ask why?"

She sighed and stepped further away from the plant. "Well, Neville's here, and he seemed to have let it slip to my dad that I received a Dreadful in Herbology last term. The traitorous bastard. My dad's livid."

"That's the worst, Mol," I said, sympathetically.

"Oh, I'm not upset about the grade," she insisted. "I just don't want to be stuck behind a plant for the entire evening."

"Well if you're here, I wanted to talk to you about something," I said. She looked over at me, intrigued. "See, something happened on Christmas and I think I might possibly f-"

"Molly Tabitha Weasley!" Molly's dad was advancing toward us from across the room.

"Oh no," Molly groaned. She glanced around frantically. "Look, tell me all about it later, okay? I think Morgan went upstairs if you want to find her."

She started to move away, but turned around. "Oh hey, Abigail? You're one of my best friends and I love you. If you never see me again, I want you to have the Weasley Wizard Wheezes stash under my bed at school." Her eyes widened, seeing her dad was closing in. "Save yourself!" And she took off in the opposite direction.

"I think she went that way," I called to her dad, pointing him in another direction entirely. He just huffed and turned around.

I sighed. Well, I still had one best friend left. I slipped through the crowd and found a staircase we had passed on our way in. Walking up the stairs, I glanced down into the room to see if I could spot James again. Nope, nothing.

The hallway at the top of the stairs was empty. "Morgan?" I called.

Suddenly, one of the doors opened and Morgan stepped out. And so did Fred. Morgan's face was red, but Fred just smiled, completely nonchalant. "Hey Abigail," he said.

"Erm… Hey guys," I said awkwardly. "Fred, could I borrow Mor-"

Morgan blurted, "Fred and I were just talking."

"I believe you," I said with a laugh. "It's just I-"

"I know this looks kind of bad, but I swear it's completely innocent," she asserted.

"Completely innocent," Fred echoed.

"Really, its fine, Morgan. I only-"

"Actually I should probably go back downstairs," Morgan rambled. Fred just shook his head at her and laughed. "I don't want anyone to worry. Plus, I'm supposed to be distracting Molly's dad because she got a Dreadful in Herbology. Which is really quite awful. Oh and Al said he wanted to show me some move on his broomstick which at first I thought was a pick-up line, but it turns out he's trying out for Seeker next year so I'll just be-"

"I think I fancy Potter!"

My ears heard the words come out of my mouth before my brain processed what exactly was happening. I had just blurted out the fact that I may or may not fancy James Potter in front of my best friend. Not to mention, _his _best friend was standing there too.

I'd expected gaping mouths and gasps, but the two of them were just standing there, staring like I'd told them that grass was green. "Okay," Morgan said with a smile.

"_Okay?_" I asked, incredulous. "You're not…surprised or shocked? Anything?"

Morgan just laughed. "I mean, I can't say I didn't see this coming."

"Yeah," Fred added. "You and James have had this weird sexual tension thing for weeks now."

"_Sexual tension?"_ I couldn't believe it. I was having a monumental, game-changing crisis, and my friends weren't shocked at all.

Morgan saw my 'processing' face and said, "Do you want to talk about it or…?"

I put a hand up and squinted my eyes at her. "You're dismissed. I need time to think."

She snorted. "Whatever you say, Abigail." Fred took her hand and they went back downstairs, both laughing quietly on the way down.

Desperate to get away from the sounds and madness of the party, I approached a random door, opened it, and shut it behind me, leaning my back against it. I took a deep breath.

With one look, I could tell it was James's bedroom. There was only a lamp on, but I could still see the Quidditch posters on the walls, a Polaroid camera on top of a stack of books next to the bed, and a photo of James, Fred, Mitchell, and Ryan on the desk.

I felt kind of weird, like I was snooping around his room, but I was already in there so what the heck. I picked up the frame from his desk and smiled. I recognized the picture. It was last year's Quidditch final. When Gryffindor won, the crowd stormed the pitch. In the photograph, James and Fred were in their uniforms, smiling. Ryan and Mitchell had painted their faces and were cheering, clapping their two friends on their backs.

There was another photo next to that one. It was a Christmas picture. There were three small children on the floor. The oldest, James, looked to be about five. That would make Al three, and Lily was just a baby. There was a Christmas tree in the background, and wrapping paper everywhere. I laughed quietly.

All of a sudden, I heard the door shut behind me. "King?" James walked in with wide eyes. "Merlin, you almost gave me a heart attack…What are you doing in my room?"

I set the photo back on his desk, embarrassed. "Sorry, I was just… I wanted some quiet but I didn't realize this was your room. Erm…sorry."

"Its fine," he said with a small smile. He walked over to the desk and stood next to me. "It's clean today so I don't really mind."

I laughed. We were quiet for a few moments. He was standing in such close proximity that I couldn't help but think about Christmas again. My heart raced.

"I love that picture," he said softly, gesturing to the Christmas photograph. "It was Lily's first Christmas."

"You all look so happy," I commented, a little sadly.

"Families generally are," he said lightly.

"Mine wasn't."

I felt his eyes on my face, but I kept my gaze locked on the photo. I didn't mean to say anything about my family. It just sort of slipped out. I never usually let my guard down long enough to reveal anything about my past. The atmosphere in the room abruptly changed.

"You mean your uncle?" he asked.

I shook my head and took a deep breath. "No, I mean my…my parents."

I glanced at James for a moment, expecting the Look. It's the same Look I always got from people when, for some reason, my parents came up into conversation. The sympathetic, concerned look of people who didn't know how to respond to tragedy, so they just give you their Look.

But he didn't give me the Look. He had an expression that I had never seen him wear before. It was full of emotions, but it was like he was waiting for me. I knew he wouldn't say anything if I didn't want him too. He would just listen.

He sat down on his bed, but I stayed standing. I leaned against his desk and just looked at him. I was trying to think of what to say. I didn't know where to start. I think James sensed this because he said gently, "You don't talk about your parents at all."

"I didn't know them," I answered. I shrugged sadly. "I mean, Uncle Matt tells me stories about my mum sometimes. She was his sister, her name was Susan. She and my dad married really young, right out of school," I explained. "He doesn't talk about Mum all that much though. I think it's hard for him."

I started pacing the floor of his bedroom, trying to get my thoughts in order. James sat on the end of his bed patiently, just waiting for me to open up. I took a few deep breaths. It had been so long since I told anyone about it; I wasn't sure how to do it.

I stopped pacing and stood in front of him. "She died a couple days after I was born." James stiffened for a moment, then ran a hand through his hair, taking this in. "They told my uncle she had some disease that made pregnancy dangerous. The chances that I actually survived were really slim, but her chances were worse. After I was born and everything was okay, they thought she would be fine. But she died two days later."

James stood up in front of me. "That's horrible," he said quietly.

"It is, isn't it?" I replied sadly. "Uncle Matt says she was the strongest person he knew. It's awful to think that something so horrible can happen to someone like that."

He nodded, lost in his thoughts. "What about your dad?"

"Uncle Matt told me my dad took me home from the hospital, back to our house. We were together for about two weeks before he left."

At this, James's eyebrows furrowed together. "He left."

I tugged on one of my earrings, breaking eye contact. "He just left. He sent a letter to my uncle or something, saying he couldn't do it. Couldn't take care of me. I don't know, he just left. I don't where he is now. I don't know if I _want _to know. I used to ask my uncle about him _every day, _but he never told me anything about him. I don't know anything about him other than the fact that he left. I don't even have a picture."

Out of everything that had happened to my short-lived childhood with my real parents, I think my father leaving was the part that bothered me the most. It was awful that my mother died, but it was unbearable to think that my father would walk away from me and never come back.

That part made me cry sometimes. I felt the sting of tears and put a hand over my eyes, shaking my head at myself.

Downstairs, I heard the countdown starting. But I couldn't be bothered with it. Right now it was just me and James.

He walked up to me and tentatively put his hands on my arms. Slowly, as if he was afraid of hurting me, he rubbed his hands up and down my arms comfortingly. I felt my tears fade away, and I was lost. All I could feel was his hands on my arms, leaving pleasant tingling sensations along the way.

When I lowered my hand from my face, James was looking at me. "I'm sorry that happened to you," he said simply. "I wish I could do something to make it better."

"You have," I said with a small smile. "I haven't talked about it in a long time."

"You do have a family, you know," he said strongly.

I looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You have a family in Dom, Morgan and Molly. You even have the guys," he said with a quiet laugh. Then, he stopped laughing, and the burning look was back. His hands moved from my arms to either side of my face, his own face inches from mine. "You have me, Abigail."

I felt my heart stop. Everything I had been thinking about in the past week came rushing through my head. I never thought those words could make me feel so whole inside.

His eyes searched mine for something. I didn't know what he was looking for. When I smiled he must have found it, because he leaned down and kissed me.

The first thing I noticed when James Potter kissed me was that he tasted like cinnamon gum. I had always hated cinnamon gum. But at that moment I decided it was my new favorite thing in the entire world.

I gasped, taking it all in, and James used this opportunity to kiss me even deeper. His arms moved around my waist, pulling me closer to him than I thought was possible. My arms automatically reached up around his neck, my hands sliding into his hair. I could kiss him forever.

I don't know who started it, but suddenly we were walking backwards into his desk. He stopped for a moment to search my eyes, but I just smiled quickly and captured his mouth again. During his kisses, he lifted me up so I could sit on top of the desk, making our height more even. Not that I had kissed that many guys, but no one I had ever snogged could compare to this. I was sure my heart was going to beat right out of my chest. I tentatively hooked one of my legs around his. He pressed a kiss to my neck.

All of a sudden, there was a loud banging on his door. We jumped apart. Already, my mind was racing.

"James!" It was Teddy. "James, open the door! This is important!"

James never looked away from me sitting on the desk. He seemed torn between answering and ignoring his cousin, but made no move to open the door. He was pursing his lips, staring at me. Apparently he waited too long because seconds later, Ted called, "Merlin. I'm coming in."

When the door opened, James took a few steps away from me, moving closer to his bed. His hair was messed up and his eyes wild. But I probably looked the same so who could judge, really?

Ted was not alone. He and Victoire walked in holding hands, looking thrilled. They didn't even seem to notice me until James looked over.

Ted smirked at me, but James cut in, saying, "Is everything okay?"

"Better than," Ted smiled.

Victoire seemed ready to burst. She held out her hand. "He proposed! Right at midnight!" Sure enough, there was a beautiful diamond ring on her finger. And apparently I had missed the countdown. I cursed in my head, remembering Dom had told me to meet her.

James, who had looked a little miffed when they came in, lit up at the news. "Wow! That's… Congratulations! Good for you, mate."

I slid off the desk quietly. "I'll leave you guys alone," I said. "Congratulations," I told Victoire as I moved to leave.

"Wait, Abigail," James called out to me. He followed me to the door.

"I have to go," I explained in a hurry, apologetically. "I told Dom I would meet her after midnight."

"Abigail …" He shook his head, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay," I assured him. "Be with Ted. Tell them congrats again from me." I took a deep breath. "I'll see you at school, James." He nodded, the burning still in his eyes.

I turned around and walked away. My mind and heart were still racing and I knew I had to talk to Dom. I scanned the room. Morgan and Fred were talking in the corner of the room. Lily was with a tall boy with a frown on his face. _Merlin, where was Dom? _Finally, at the top of the stairs, I spotted her blonde and pink streaked head and made my way to her.

"Dom!" I called out. She was swaying to some music, holding two glasses of champagne.

"Hey, best friend!" she said, obviously a bit tipsy. She held out a glass to me but I shook my head.

"Listen, I think I'm going to go back to Shell Cottage," I explained, my voice serious. I didn't think I could be here anymore. I had to think, and I wanted to talk to my best friend.

"Aw, come on! Don't be – " She stopped swaying when she saw my face. My serious gaze automatically sobered her up. That's why she was my best friend. "I'll be five minutes behind you."

She automatically left me, going off to explain our absences to her family. I took one last look upstairs and walked out the door.

And without thinking about it, I Apparated back to Shell Cottage, went into my room, and lay down on my bed, not bothering to take off my shoes or dress.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **YOU'RE WELCOME.

See you crazy cats next week. Maybe we'll have 100 reviews by then? That would be truly magnificent.


	17. Douse the Lights

**A/N:** No, dear reader, you are NOT hallucinating. But don't you worry your pretty little head about that. Read now, ask questions later.

* * *

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "I Constantly Thank God for Esteban" belongs to Panic! At the Disco.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Douse the Lights**

"_Just stay where I can see you. Douse the lights! We sure are in for a show tonight."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

One of the absolute worst parts about being short was that it made being on the platform at King's Cross extremely difficult. I had been standing on the platform, up on my tiptoes for a good five and half minutes and I couldn't find any of my friends. It really shouldn't have been so difficult, seeing as I had been with Dom about ten minutes prior. There weren't even that many students returning from holiday at home, but I still couldn't find them.

I hadn't seen Molly or Morgan in person since the New Year's party and I needed to talk to them so badly. In the days after the party, Dom and I had been sending them owls, the four of us frantically trying to communicate about my situation. Apparently they weren't even that surprised to hear that James and I kissed. Molly sent me a letter that simply said, "It's about damn time." Oh, my supportive friends.

I sighed, frustrated that I couldn't find a single familiar face. "Well, fuck," I mumbled.

"Whoa now, Head Girl. I'm sure you could receive detention for language like that."

I spun around, face reddening, to see Fred smirking at me. Mitchell and Ryan were chuckling behind him.

I exhaled in relief. "Oh, it's you. Thank Merlin, I couldn't find anyone I knew. You guys haven't seen the girls, have you?"

"Nope," Ryan replied. "We've only seen James."

My stomach dropped. "Oh, right. James. That's nice. Is… Is he meeting up with you?" I hoped they didn't notice the nervous shake in my voice.

"He went ahead to look for a compartment," Mitch answered, raising an eyebrow. "Why? Are you looking for him?"

_Did they know? _I mean, maybe James didn't mention it to them. He _must_ have seen Fred again before coming back. Maybe he was the only one that knew. I glanced over at him. He was smiling slightly. But then again, Fred was always smiling. Maybe he didn't tell anyone.

"Abigail?" Mitchell said.

"Hmm? What?"

"Abigail, are you alright?" Fred asked. He looked a little concerned. "You're acting a little strange…Did something happen with James? Are you in a fight or –" Suddenly he gasped, his eyes growing wide. "_Bloody hell._"

Oh, Merlin. Sensing where this was going, I hiked my bag up on my shoulder and turned around. Making my way to the train, I could hear them following me.

"Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody _hell._"

"Fred, what are you on about?" Ryan asked.

The three of them were dodging luggage and first years to keep up with me. I refused to stop walking, moving until I reached the train.

"I have no idea what's going on," Mitch mumbled.

We were in the train by then and I was scanning the compartments, looking for my best friends. And I _really _needed to get away from Fred before he said something.

"Come on, mates. It's obvious," Fred was explaining rather loudly. "James was acting all weird when we saw him. Now Abigail's avoiding questions and spacing out…"

A few feet away, a couple of fifth years had stuck their heads out the compartment to inspect the commotion. In fact, quite a few people were listening to Fred's rambling.

"So…" Ryan still looked confused.

"So it's OBVIOUS!" Merlin, he was practically shouting now. "Our best mate and Queen King over here – "

I spun around. "_Alright!_ Alright." Avoiding the gazes of all the curious onlookers, I shoved the three of them into the closest empty compartment I could find.

"Merlin, Fred, why don't you just announce it to the _whole school_?" I gave him a push and he fell back onto the seat, laughing. Ryan and Mitchell sat down next to him but I was pacing the compartment.

"You know, usually I pride myself in being relatively clever," Mitchell said, "but I _still _don't know what you two are going on about." Ryan nodded in agreement.

Fred smiled at me in glee, keeping his mouth shut. "Oh, _now_ you're going to shut up?" I shot at him and sighed."Fine. Well, you see… Erm. Over the holidays, well on New Year's Eve, James and I… erm, kissed."

I was greeted with blank faces. "That's it?" Ryan deadpanned. "I thought it was something serious."

I threw my hands up. "This _is_ serious! God, _why _is _no one _surprised by _anything _I say anymore?" I collapsed back onto the bench, massaging my temples.

"What else should we be surprised about?" Mitch asked.

"That she fancies him," Fred explained. I shot him a look, having lost too much of my dignity to argue.

"Well that makes sense if you snogged the pants off him," Mitch responded with a smirk.

"Merlin, no one snogged the pants off of anybody," I said, my face reddening. "Pants were definitely in place."

"But you did snog him," Ryan pointed out.

"Well, I mean… yes."

"I don't see why you're expecting surprise," Ryan said. "You two have had this weird sexual tension thing for a while now."

I felt the familiar rumbling of the train beginning to move. I sighed again, pressing my hands into my eyes. "This is why I never tell you guys anything."

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

"Why, hello there, cousin."

I turned around in the train's hallway to see Molly, Morgan, and Dom peeking out the door of a compartment. They were all huddled together, giving me very suspicious looks. The giant smirk on Molly's face told me that she was the one who'd spoken. I glanced behind the three of them into the compartment. _She_ wasn't there.

"Ladies," I greeted them casually. I raised my eyebrows at them. "Everything alright?"

"Peachy keen," Dom answered lightly.

"Everything alright with _you?_" Morgan quickly responded.

"Other than the fact that this is starting to feel like an interrogation," I said, "I'm doing fine."

"Oh, we _know,_" Molly retorted. She stepped aside and gestured to their compartment. "Please. Join us."

I knew where this was going and, being the somewhat intelligent guy I am, I tried to refuse it. I really tried. "You know, I was actually going to find a compartment – "

"Well, we have a perfectly fine compartment right here," Dom interrupted in a no-nonsense tone. "Besides, we always sit together."

I let out an exasperated breath. "Yeah, I was thinking just me and the guys this trip."

"What an interesting change of scenery," Molly shot back. "Is there some reason behind this change?"

I almost groaned aloud. "Guys –"

"Oh, James," Morgan interrupted. She was shaking her head at me slightly, the same way my mother did when she knew she was going to win an argument. "We all know where this is going. Why don't you just make this a lot easier and sit down."

I sighed and entered the compartment, slumping back into the seat. The three of them sat across from me, serious expressions adorning their faces. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"She told you."

Dom threw her hands up. "Of course she told us!" she exclaimed. "We're her best friends!"

"So?" Molly prodded. "How was it?"

I shot her a look. The three of them had the most eager looks on their faces. "What do you mean 'how was it?'" I asked. "It's not like we shagged."

"Merlin, James," Morgan sighed. "Stop being such a guy. It's obvious this was a pretty big deal."

It _felt _like a big deal, but I wasn't about to admit that to them. "Why?" I asked, intrigued. "Did she say something?"

"Ha!" Dom barked. "Like we're going to tell you. That's strictly a best friend to best friend privilege."

I sat up straighter and ran a hand through my hair. "I haven't seen her yet."

"Well, you've snogged lots of girls before, right?" Molly contributed. I was confused as to where this was going. "Just act the same way you always do after you snog –"

"This is different," I interrupted her, shaking my head. They all paused for a moment.

"Why?" Morgan asked gently.

I glanced at them quickly and took a deep breath. "Because _she's _different. And I don't want to screw this one up."

They were all silent for a few seconds, and then collectively let out a big _whoosh _of breath.

"Oh, good," Morgan said, relieved. "Because I really didn't want to give the whole 'overprotective mother' speech."

"And this proves it," Molly added. "You _do _have a soul."

"Thanks, Mol," I deadpanned.

"Come forth, cousin," Dom said, raising her hand for a high-five. "You are now a man."

I didn't grace her comment with a high-five. "I hate you guys," I said laughing, easing back into my seat. "You know, I haven't exactly mentioned it to the guys yet."

"Maybe that explains our friends' mysterious absences," Molly guessed.

Just then, something slammed into the compartment door. Looking over, I saw that Fred had pressed his face up to the glass, glaring at me.

He pointed his finger at me threateningly. _You're dead to me, _he mouthed.

I rolled my eyes, but quickly noticed he was alone. I slid the door open. "Hello, Frederick."

He dramatically threw himself onto the seat beside me. "How could you not tell me something this important?" he sighed, putting a hand to his forehead in mock agony. Then, he looked over to the girls and smiled. "Hello, ladies." He smiled at Morgan. "My dear." She blushed.

"So, you've seen her." It wasn't a question.

He focused back on me. "Yeah, mate. Ryan, Mitch, and I were talking to her for a little while."

"Well, where is she now?" Dom prompted. I was pretty curious myself.

"They went to go get food from the trolley," he answered. "But they're coming back soon."

"Oh, good. I was getting hungry," Morgan said lightly.

Right when she finished speaking, the compartment door slid open again. And she was there, in front of Ryan and Mitch, holding countless boxes of candies in her arms.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. We didn't say hello. I had a flash of her in my bedroom, lifting her up onto the desk. Her hands in my hair.

As if she could tell what I was thinking, she blushed. She cleared her throat. "So," she said breathlessly. "Who's hungry?"

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"So. Who's hungry?" I sounded like I was out of breath. But, damn it, it was _his _fault.

He was giving me that look again.

You know, _that _look. He got that hungry, burning look in his eyes and I couldn't even speak normally.

Ryan cleared his throat meaningfully behind me, alerting me to the fact that I hadn't moved in twenty seconds. He gave me a gentle little push, guiding me into the compartment.

_Right._ I picked the safest place to sit, next to Morgan. She wouldn't make a big deal of anything. I sat closest to the window, with all the girls on one side of the compartment. The boys shuffled in, too, sliding onto the opposite cushions until James was pushed all the way to the window. Across from me.

I glanced at him. He was quiet. Everyone else was talking, mindlessly arguing over who would get what candy, but he said nothing..

I was partially aware of six pairs of hands reaching into my arms, fighting over all the sweets I had bought. I was left with two chocolate frogs. Without overthinking it, I tossed one of the frogs to James. He caught it easily, with one hand.

"Thanks," he said, his voice low.

"You're welcome," I answered.

The first words we spoke to each other since it happened. Thanks and you're welcome. I felt like everything in the background faded away, growing quiet at our words.

_Wait,_ I thought. _Everything really _is _quiet._

James seemed to realize this too. We glanced at each other, confused, and slowly turned to our friends.

Every single one of them was staring at us, completely silent. Ryan's hand was halfway to his mouth, the hand holding his candy hovering in the air. Morgan's eyes were wide.

Molly cleared her throat suddenly. "You know, this chocolate is making me really thirsty," she said lightly. "I think I'll go get a drink. Morgan?"

"Mmm, yeah," Morgan said. "Thirsty." They made their way out of the compartment.

Fred grabbed Morgan's hand. "I think I'll come with you."

_Oh no. _Dom stood up. "I think Brian Corner is probably up for a hello snog."

Ryan followed her. "Yeah, I should probably catch up with his sister…"

And then there was one. Mitch. I stared him down, my eyes widening. _Mitch_, I thought desperately, _don't you dare leave. _

He quietly laughed, covering it as a cough. He shot me an apologetic look. "Loo," he mumbled.

And so we were alone. James and I, alone in a very silent, very empty compartment. I didn't know what to say, so I picked at the packaging of the chocolate frog.

"So," he said.

"Yeah."

We both chuckled awkwardly at this, James sticking at least half of his chocolate frog in his mouth. I smiled slightly, watching him as he brushed his fingers across his jeans. Like me, he hadn't changed into his robes yet. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt, zipped all the way up to his neck. For a moment, I imagined myself moving to sit next to him, leaning into his shoulder, pressing my face into his sweatshirt.

I shook my head slightly. I had to focus. Things were still really weird; I couldn't just start acting like that.

He was looking at me now. I'd probably been staring at him for a while, lost in my thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Listen, Abigail," he started. I still wasn't used to him using my first name. It sent weird shivers up my spine. "I really think we should –"

But I would never find out what he really thought we should do, because just then, someone knocked on the door to the compartment. I glance to my left told me that it was Neville, quickly sliding open the door to our compartment.

"Neville," James said in surprise. I couldn't blame him, I was pretty surprised myself.

"Erm… what are you doing here?" I asked. "On the train?"

He sat down next to James and chuckled quietly. "I went home for the holidays, too," he explained. "How else did you think I was going to get back?"

"I don't know," James answered. "I just never figured the teachers would ride the train."

"I do. It brings back good memories," he trailed off.

"Not to interrupt the reminiscing," I said, "but what are you doing _here? _In our compartment?"

He sat up straighter, seeming to remember something. "Right. I'm actually here to convey a message from the Headmistress."

He paused. "Well?" James prompted.

He shot James a look. "I was getting to it. Anyway, I was talking to Professor McGonagall recently and your names came up. She mentioned that there haven't been many big arguments recently. In fact, you two have been very well behaved for the past few weeks, especially before holiday."

I was waiting for the punch line. "So, is there some sort of problem?" I asked. James looked somewhat confused as well.

Neville smiled. "No, and that's the point. Professor McGonagall wanted me to tell you both how impressed she was that you were cleaning up your acts. She said how glad she was that the two of you worked everything out, and I am too."

I looked down into my lap. But we hadn't worked things out. Sure, we weren't trying to rip each others' throats out anymore, but things were no longer normal. And I had no idea what to do about it.

Neville glanced between us, obviously looking for some kind of expression of gratitude, but not finding one. James was avoiding his gaze, just like me.

Neville furrowed his brows. "Unless," he said slowly, "you haven't worked everything out? Has something happened?"

He was obviously asking if we had started fighting again, if there was some big argument he hadn't heard about. But that's not how we took it. One glance at James, and I could tell he was thinking about the same thing that I was. His bedroom. Cinnamon gum. Walking backwards to his desk.

And when James started to shake his head, I knew what he would say. We had worked too hard to throw a wrench in the works so quickly. We couldn't allow what had happened on New Year's Eve get in the way of what was important.

"No," James answered quietly. "Nothing to report."

Almost immediately after Neville left, our friends returned one by one, back from their random and pointless errands. Everyone fell back into conversation quickly, filling the silence that they had walked into. James and I did not speak.

I knew he was right to tell Neville that nothing had happened. It's not like he was going to spill the whole story to our professor anyway. So he let it go. It was the logical thing to do. Responsible, even. I was still Head Girl, I told myself. Nothing had changed. I was fine.

But I didn't want to let it go. I didn't want to be logical, or responsible.

Everything had changed. And I wasn't fine.

* * *

**A/N: **You beautiful bastards, you. You guys have made our day and week because...**WE HIT 100 REVIEWS! **We can't put into writing how much that means to us. So because of this, Ray and I decided to post chapter 17 a whole day early! So don't expect an update tomorrow, but enjoy this chapter right now!

Thank you all again soooo much. Hopefully we will hit another milestone again soon!

See you next week!


	18. Say When

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Say When" belongs to The Fray.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Say When**

"_Say when… and my own two hands will comfort you tonight."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

For a week, nothing changed. James and I acted the same way we had on the train ride back to school. We acknowledged each other and got the work done, but we didn't really talk to each other.

For the most part, I stayed holed up in my bedroom and did schoolwork. A lot of the time, I arranged for someone else to take over the patrol duties I usually shared with James. Tonight, Morgan was covering for me. I knew I was sort of being a coward, but I didn't think I could handle being alone with him again. I didn't want to face the awkward situation or the stony silence...especially since I wasn't a pro when it came to silence.

I was following my normal routine that night. I went down to dinner, sat as far away from James as possible, and returned to the Heads' dorms as quickly as I could. I knew that tonight James would be on patrol, so I opted for the space of our common room rather than my cluttered room. He wouldn't be back for a few hours, so I had time to get some work done before I hid away again.

I was working on a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay when I heard a tapping at the window. If I were a normal teenage girl, my heart would race at the thought of tapping at my window. Maybe a boy was throwing rocks to get my attention.

But seeing as I was a witch and my bedroom was located on the highest floor of my castle/school, I was merely confused. Looking over, I saw the source of the tapping. It wasn't a boy throwing rocks at my window, it was an owl. Now that made more sense. Sometimes James and I would receive owls right at our window rather than the Owlery. We always just assumed it was Head privilege.

I ran over to the window, hoping for an owl from my uncle. He'd been back in London for about a week but I still hadn't heard from him. I let the owl inside, pet its head, and collected the envelope. A quick glance at the handwriting told me it was the letter I'd been waiting for.

It was strangely heavy.

Inside the envelope was a piece of parchment and a separate envelope. Furrowing my brows, I read the letter.

_Dear kiddo,_

_I'm sorry I didn't write you the second I got back, but something came up. Well, rather, something came _for _you. I didn't know whether or not I should give it to you, but you're an adult and you deserve to know the truth. _

_Please write to me as soon as you can. I have a feeling we need to talk about a few things._

My uncle's scrawl was messy and slanted. Apparently he had written the letter very quickly. In his haste, he even forgot to sign the letter.

Whether it was my uncle's crazed handwriting or his frantic words, the letter left me with a strange sense of foreboding. Whatever this second envelope held, it must have been very important. With shaking hands, I opened the second envelope.

By the time I scanned the first page, my tears were already staining the parchment.

* * *

**Morgan Finnegan**

James and I had been running patrol for over a half an hour and he hadn't spoken a single word. I mean, I never knew the guy could keep quiet for a whole minute, let alone a half hour.

And it was really unsettling.

I glanced over at him. He was looking down at his feet. "You know," I started, "since we're _patrolling_ you might want to look up every once and a while."

He looked at me in surprise, like he'd forgotten I was even there. "What? Oh. Of course, Morgan."

I sighed, and stopped him, grabbing his arm. "James, what's the matter?"

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_," I said, "we've been on patrol for thirty minutes and you haven't said a word to me. Either you're deathly ill or something is wrong."

It was his turn to sigh. He ran a hand through his hair, something I had heard Abigail complain about constantly in years past.

I gasped. _Abigail! _That's what all this was about. "Is this about Abigail?" I asked before he could say anything. "I haven't seen you two together recently…"

"That's because we haven't been together," he said, frustrated. "She's been sort of avoiding me all week. Not that I blame her," he added.

"Did something happen?" I asked.

"You know how on the train I said that she was different, and I wasn't going to screw this one up?" I nodded. "Well I think I screwed this one up," he said.

I resisted the urge to laugh. "Why? What happened?"

He told me about what he said to Professor Longbottom on the train, about them not acknowledging that they had kissed. They hadn't talked about it at all. He explained that they hadn't talked for a whole week, and when they did talk, it was only for civility's sake.

The whole time, James was practically losing it. He was pacing back and forth, raking his hands through his hair. If I didn't know him any better, I would have called him a madman.

"And now I have no idea what to do!" he exclaimed. "I don't think she even wants to see me."

I shook my head at him. "James, you _do _know what to do."

I looked at me, confused. "I do?"

"Listen, you fancy Abigail right?"

He stopped for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. A lot."

"And you want her to be happy?"

"Well, of course I do. But what does that have to do with –"

I put up a hand to stop him. "Don't be daft, James."

"So what do I do?"

I almost groaned. Boys were so stupid sometimes. "You have to tell her how you really feel!" I exclaimed.

"Listen to her, mate," a voice said behind me. "Morgan's always right."

I spun around. Fred was casually walking up to us, his hands in his pockets. He was wearing simple jeans and a jumper that was slightly small for his built frame, but it still made my heart race.

Over the holiday, we had grown even closer. At his family's parties, we spent almost the whole night together. And on New Year's Eve, I had wanted him to kiss me. So badly. But he never did. He'd grown accustomed to holding my hand, something that made my heart race every time he did it, but we had never kissed. Who knew that of all people, Fred Weasley would be such a gentleman? I felt myself grow warm in the face.

I huffed slightly. "You know, its past curfew," I informed him. "You could get detention for being out of bed after hours."

"Ah, but then we couldn't spend this precious time together, love," he retorted, smiling.

James coughed. "If you're done flirting…"

I faced James and looked him square in the eye. "James Sirius Potter," I scolded. "You know what you have to do. You fancy Abigail and right now all you're doing is wasting precious time. I'll take care of the rest of patrol. If you really care about her, you'll leave right now and tell her how you feel!"

James took a deep breath and smiled. He gave me a quick hug and turned to leave, practically running. "You're the greatest, Morgan!" he called as he began to leave the room. "I owe you for this!"

I chuckled and looked up at Fred. He was watching James walk away, not saying anything.

"So what – " I started.

"Shh," he said, putting up his hand. He glanced at James again, not looking away until his best friend had turned the corner and was out of sight.

And then he kissed me.

I was taken so off guard that if Fred hadn't wrapped his arms around my waist, I probably would have stumbled and ruined the whole thing. Thankfully that didn't happen.

Feeling his lips on mine, I slowly wrapped my hands around his neck, pushing myself up on my tip toes. He tightened his arms around my waist and the pace of his kisses slowed. He moved from my lips to my neck, placing a few kisses there. Then he kissed my lips once again before pressing a final kiss on my forehead.

His kiss was so like him. It was out of the blue. Random, but deliberate. Simple, but so passionate. Perfect.

My heart was racing. I was still breathing, wasn't I? I took a deep breath. Yep, still good to go.

I looked up at him and saw him smiling down at me. It wasn't one of Fred's smirks or playful grins, it was a smile of contentment. Of happiness.

"I just wanted to let you know," he said quietly, "that you take my breath away."

I think my heart stopped. His words were so simple – so _Fred_ – but they meant so much. I didn't think I could formulate words, but I didn't have to.

"I heard what you said to James and I don't want to waste any more time," he continued. "So I thought I should probably tell you how I feel." He said this like he was very proud of himself. "How did I do?"

I just stared at him. I don't think I had ever been more wrong about anyone in my life. For years, I had hated Fred Weasley. I thought he was an annoyance, merely a class clown.

But this year, I had grown closer to him than I was with any boy in my life. He became my best friend. And I never wanted to leave him. Ever.

I kissed him lightly, putting as much emotion as I could in that one kiss.

"Perfect," I answered. "Really, really perfect."

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

By the time I reached the corridor outside of the Heads' dorms, I was full-blown running.

Morgan was right. I had to tell Abigail how I felt, I _wanted _to tell her. I had spent so much time worrying about all the things I had said, or hadn't said. Now I had to do what I knew was right in my heart. Nothing else mattered.

I burst into the common room, looking around frantically. "Abigail!" I shouted. "Hey, Abigail, where are you? I have something –"

I stopped dead in my tracks. She was sitting against the wall in the corner of the room, right by the window. She was wearing light jeans and a sweater that was a few sizes too big. Her long hair was kind of messy, like he had been pulling at it. There were a few sheets of paper on the ground next to her. But these were things I noticed later.

All I noticed in that moment was that she was crying.

I had never, in all the time I knew her, seen Abigail King cry like she was crying then. Her whole body was shaking with sobs that I could only describe as broken.

I rushed over to her, kneeling on the floor. "Shit, Abigail, what's going on?" I ran my hands across her face, wiping away the tears.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down, maybe try to explain, but she just started crying again. She mumbled "sorry"s through her sobs, but she couldn't formulate words. She pointed to the parchment on the ground before covering her face with both hands.

"It's okay," I said in what I hoped was a soothing manner, knowing it was not okay at all. But I had no idea what to do. All I wanted to do was to make her feel better. "You're alright, you're okay. Come here."

I opened my arms to her and she hugged me tightly, pressing her face into my chest. Without thinking about it, I picked her up bridal-style, rubbing her back slowly.

I knew for a fact that she had lifted the charm on her bedroom door, the one that refused me entry. Before the holiday, she sent me to fetch a book from her room and told me that she took away the spell. I had walked in without a problem. So I could have easily brought her to her to her own room. But I didn't.

As I carried her into my room, she calmed down a little. She wasn't sobbing anymore, but I could still feel her warm tears soak through my shirt. Carefully, I set her down on my bed and moved to sit in the chair.

Her hand grabbed my wrist. "Wait," she said. Her voice was rough and gravelly from the crying. I faced her, reaching down to wipe away a few more tears. God, she was breaking my heart.

"Don't…don't go. Okay?" she said desperately. "Just…stay here."

She moved aside so I could lay next to her. I stretched out next to her, and she automatically put her head on my chest, closing her eyes.

"Okay," I said, rubbing circles into her back. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

A few hours later, I left Abigail in my room and went back to the common room. After asking me to stay, she didn't say another word to me. She silently cried for a little before falling asleep, obviously exhausted from the crying.

I slipped out without waking her and walked back to where I had found her before. I saw the sheets of parchment she had pointed to. I leaned over and picked them up.

I scanned the first paragraph and my stomach dropped. _Oh Merlin, _I thought. _Poor Abigail._

* * *

_My dearest daughter Abigail,_

_I cannot put into words the amount of pain and anger I feel while writing this letter. Pain, knowing in my heart I have undoubtedly caused so much of your own. And anger at myself for what I have done to you. _

_I know that these words are about eighteen years late, but I suppose they are better than no words at all. I've told myself that I have waited this long because I wanted you to be old enough to understand. But I know that is partially a lie. Most of me waited this long to reach out to you because I was afraid. If anything, I hope you did not inherit that trait from me._

_Leaving you as a child was unforgivable. I was tormented by the grief of your mother's death, and was unable to think straight. After she died, everything in this world reminded me of her. The smell of our house, her favorite songs, the way the wind sounded at night. And you. Everything about you reminded me of her. _

_I was too angry to raise a child. This I know is true. I'm afraid of how you might have turned out if I had raised you. I'm afraid that I would have been so controlled by my grief that I would not have treated you right. And if nothing else, I have always wanted the very best for you._

_I know that may seem unfair considering I have never been around to be your father. But I know even without seeing you that Matt has done far better than I ever could at being your Dad. I hope you take after your mother in everything you do and everything you are. I hope you have her red hair, her taste in music, her spitfire personality. But most of all, I hope you are nothing like me._

_Leaving you was the most wrong thing I have ever done. Perhaps one day – though I can't imagine why you would want to – we will meet. _

_I suppose sending this letter was an important step in making peace with myself, but it is mostly about making peace with you. _

_And though I haven't seen you in almost eighteen years and you are nearly a grown woman now, I want you to know that I love you. I always have and I always will. _

_Don't ever forget that._

_ Love,_

_ Dad_

* * *

**A/N: **DON'T HATE ME. I know the ending was pretty heavy, but at least you got some Morgan/Fred goodies in there. That scene made me very happy to write.

But honestly, writing that letter was one of the hardest things we've written in this whole story. Maybe we got some tears? Haha, not that that is a good thing.

Anyway, thanks for being patient and see you guys next week!


	19. All I Need

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "All I Need" belongs to Mat Kearney.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: All I Need**

"_I'm holding on to you, holding on to me. Maybe it's all we've got but it's all I need. You're all I need."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

For a few blissful moments right after I woke, I had no idea where I was or what had happened the night before. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the amount of sunlight coming through the window. When I took a deep breath, I smelled something wonderful. Something musky and familiar that I couldn't put my finger on so soon after waking up. The walls were green, I noticed. I furrowed my eyebrows. That wasn't right…my walls were blue.

I sat up instantly, giving myself a massive head rush. Looking around, I had the strongest feeling of déjà vu. Of course I did.

Because I was in James Potter's bed. Again.

Then it all came rushing back. The owl at the window. The letters. My dad. And then, James, bringing me to his room and sitting with me until I fell asleep.

I glanced over at the chair, the same one he'd been sitting in when I woke up in his bed the first time. And there he was again, looking down at a notebook, scribbling furiously. I'd seen him writing in the notebook before. It was Fred's Quidditch playbook, a journal they'd often passed around at mealtimes, getting into heated discussions of plays and tactics. I remembered that we had a big game coming up.

He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, and looked over. Realizing I had woken up, he sat up straighter and placed the notebook on the ground.

"Hey," James said, his voice low. "You're awake."

I pulled a hand through my hair, trying to undo all the tangles. "Waking up in your bed for the _second _time," I joked lamely, but my heart wasn't in it. My voice was hoarse and gravelly from all the crying from the night before. "The girls of Hogwarts would be in a frenzy."

He didn't laugh. He was studying my face carefully, as if waiting for something.

"Look, I promise I won't start crying again," I mumbled, embarrassed. "You don't have to put me on suicide watch or anything."

"You don't have to make a joke about this, you know," he said gently.

I sighed. "I know."

He moved to sit at the end of the bed. I noticed that he was holding the letter. Even seeing the sheets of paper made my throat close up. I took a couple deep breaths.

"Did you read it?" I asked, my voice strained.

James nodded. He waited a long time before speaking. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shrugged, looking down at the comforter. "I don't think so," I answered honestly. "I'm not really sure what to say about it. I'm still…I don't know. Processing, I guess."

He didn't say anything for a few minutes. Then, suddenly, "I'm sorry."

I gave him a look, surprised. "What are you sorry for?" I almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but I guess I wasn't really in the laughing mood.

"For making assumptions about you," he said quietly. "I've said some bloody awful things about your home life, saying you were perfect and all that. It wasn't fair."

I just looked at him, not knowing what exactly to say. "It's alright," I decided. "I'd forgotten about all that stuff."

He laughed quietly. "We've come a long way since the beginning of term, huh?"

I smiled slightly. "Yeah, I guess we have."

He reached out slowly like he was going to hold my hand, but let it rest on the comforter between us. "Well, whenever you do want to talk…let me know. You know where I live," he joked.

"Thanks," I said softly, smiling.

We sat there for a few moments, saying nothing. I was lost in my thoughts, thinking back to my father's letter from the night before. I wanted so desperately just to move on, forget about it. I wanted to be able to handle it the Abigail way – crack a joke, push it away, and forget. But I had a feeling that it wasn't going to be so easy this time.

"So," I started, feeling like I should say something. "What now?"

When I woke up, I'd been worried that what had happened and how I'd acted the night before would scare him off. Maybe he would act differently around me, treat me differently. I didn't want things to change.

And then he said something so _James _that my heart just swelled with affection for him, and I knew he would never change, not ever.

"Well breakfast started about twenty minutes ago," he said, looking at his watch. "So I was thinking…pancakes?"

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

For a few weeks, it seemed like Abigail King was missing. Gone. She went to meals and classes in a daze. She rarely spoke to anyone.

And it was killing me.

I made sure I was always around, ready to provide a sarcastic comment or a quick getaway. Occasionally she would crack a halfhearted smile at one of my sad attempts at humor, but otherwise she hadn't really smiled in days. Thankfully, everyone was very nonchalant about it. Abigail must have explained the situation to Molly, Morgan, and Dom at some point. They were all very careful to avoid any topics that could relate back to parents.

The guys were really good about it, too. I'd given them a vague rundown of why Abigail was so upset, never going into details. But whenever it seemed like Abigail needed some space, they took the hint, slyly disappearing. To be honest, I wasn't exactly sure why I hadn't gotten the same treatment.

"Abigail, sweetie, aren't you going to eat something?" Dom asked.

Abigail, Dom, Morgan, Molly, and I were all eating dinner together, the guys having slipped off somewhere. Fred looked a little upset to leave Morgan, but he left nonetheless. The two of them had been acting differently lately…

I was struck by how quiet we were all being. Around us, groups of friends were eating and chatting away. Abigail had been pushing mashed potatoes around her plate for fifteen minutes before Dom said something.

She dropped her fork when Dom spoke, as though she'd forgotten we were all there. She glanced at us, her eyes wide. "Oh," she said apologetically, "I'm not actually that hungry."

Molly and Morgan exchanged a glance. "Are you sure?" Morgan asked. "You haven't been eating much the past couple of weeks…"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," Abigail answered. "I think I'm just going to head back to the dorms, so…" She got up to leave.

"Abigail – " I started.

She sighed and gave me the same response she's been giving me for three weeks. "I'm fine, James. Really." With that, she gathered her books and left. Suppressing a groan, I pushed my plate away from me. Suddenly, I wasn't very hungry.

Seeing my frustration, Dom said, "Just hang in there, mate. She'll be fine."

"Yeah, she keeps saying that," I answered. "But she's obviously not fine, Dom."

Molly propped her chin in her hand and looked at me in interest. "So I'm guessing you never told her that you fancy her…?"

I didn't allow myself to be surprised that Morgan told them what we had talked about. I'd known they'd all find out eventually when I told her.

I scoffed. "Yeah, Mol, I just traipsed up to her and said, 'You know, it's a right shame that your long lost father has a sudden interest in you, but I thought I'd let you know I fancy you,'" I shot at her. "That would go _real _well."

Morgan smacked Molly's arm and she hung her head. "Sorry, James," Molly said remorsefully. "Foot in mouth syndrome…"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "No, I'm sorry," I apologized. "That was shitty of me. It's just…seeing her like this…"

"We know," Morgan said softly.

"I have no bloody idea what to do," I said honestly. "I don't know what to say to make her feel better." I pressed my hands into my eyes. "There should be a guidebook to stuff like this."

"Yeah, like_ A Wizards' Guide to an Absent Parent's Sudden Reappearance and the Emotional Upheaval That Follows_," Molly mused, splaying her hands out in front of her.

We all shot her a look. My cousin was so bloody strange sometimes.

"Look, in my experience as a girl, it's not what you say that matters," Dom said thoughtfully. "It's what you _don't _say."

Morgan nodded. "Just listen to her. What she probably needs the most right now is to vent. She'll talk when she's ready."

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King **

_Please don't talk to me, _I thought. _I want to be invisible._

It was the same mantra I repeated to myself every time I walked the corridors. For the past few weeks, all I had wanted to do was disappear. I reminded myself that nobody except my closest friends knew why I was in such a mood. Nobody was looking at me differently. Nobody was blindly judging me.

_Please don't talk to me._

But I still wanted to disappear. It was just easier not to talk. I slipped through the first floor corridors, unnoticed by all the students walking around.

_I want to be invisible. _

The most talking I had done in a fortnight was when I told Molly, Morgan, and Dom about the letter. I'd briefly explained to them what he wrote, not bothering to show them the letter. I didn't want to upset myself in front of them, so I didn't go into the gory details. But they knew the gist of it.

_Please don't talk to me._

I took a deep breath when I made it onto the third floor. There were only a couple students wandering about. A couple students I could handle. I felt myself relax when I passed the statue of the one-eyed witch that hid the Honeydukes passage. I almost allowed myself to smile when I thought of our Honeydukes adventure a few months ago. Almost.

_I want to be – _

"Miss King!"

I stopped in my tracks, grinding my teeth. So much for that mantra. Turning around, I was surprised to see Professor McGonagall addressing me.

"Headmistress," I regarded her. "You aren't at dinner."

The old woman waved her hand dismissively. "I have a few matters I have to attend to. Which is why I'm glad I saw you."

"Oh?" I asked, dreading her response. Really, I just wanted to be invisible. Was that so much to ask?

"I have to go handle a situation with some Slytherins," she explained vaguely, "but I've issued a detention that starts in five minutes. Normally, I wouldn't trust a student with matters like this, but I'm afraid I have no choice. You're Head Girl, so you are in a position of authority."

"You want me to handle the detention?" I asked, surprised.

She nodded briskly. "The student is to polish the silver in the trophy room without magic. Just set her up, explain the task, and then you may leave. Fairly basic, but I'm sure you can handle it," she said with a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Of course," I said, but she was already walking away.

_Great,_ I thought, walking towards the trophy room. Not only was I visible, but I had to be responsible. These days I barely wanted to deal with myself, let alone some first year troublemaker who –

"_Lily?" _

James's younger sister spun around at the sound of my surprised voice. Her face lit up at the sight of me. "Abigail!" she cried, running over to hug me. "McGonagall said someone would come but I didn't know it would be you!"

I embraced her quickly. "Erm…_you're _the detention?" I asked.

She deflated a little. "Eh, yeah," she said. "Apparently a few of the teachers on the staff don't approve of my language… Arseholes."

"So it would seem," I remarked.

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled widely. Merlin, she was so _happy, _even in detention. It made a little sad. I hadn't allowed myself to feel anything real in weeks.

"Oh, Abigail, guess what?" She didn't wait for me to respond. "Thomas Blake walked me to class the other day!"

"Thomas Blake?" I asked.

"The boy from New Year's!" she said excitedly. _Oh, right. _"Well, I mean, he didn't _walk _me to class exactly. We were sort of going in the same direction…So I just sort of bumped into him and then we were walking together!" Her eyes were bright.

I allowed myself a small smile. "That's great, Lily," I told her. Remembering the task I was to do, I cleared my throat. "Oh, I'm supposed to tell you that you have silver duty. Polish everything in here without magic until McGonagall comes back to collect you," I instructed her, looking around the room. "It sounds like hard work but I think you'll…"

I trailed off, my eye catching something in the corner of the room. "Abigail?" I heard Lily say, but I walked past her. There was a plaque hanging on the wall, a list of names gleaming at me.

"Oh, that's the Heads' plaque," Lily explained, following me. "It lists all the Head Boys and Girls since, like, a billion years ago. Look, those are my grandparents," she said, pointing at two names towards the middle of the list. _Lily Evans and James Potter, 1977-1978._

But I was looking at a name closer to my eye level, directly in front of me. I read the names out loud. "_Daniel King,_" I whispered softly. "_1999-2000._"

I could feel Lily's gaze on my face. "Was that…That's your dad, right?"

I nodded, feeling numb. "I had no idea…"

My own father was Head Boy and I had no idea. I'd known he had been a student at Hogwarts during the war, but that was pretty much the extent of my knowledge. He must have been made Head Boy a couple years after the war ended. Merlin, _Head Boy_.

I cleared my throat, snapping out of it. "Anyway, all the polishing stuff is in a bucket over there," I said, rushing through the instructions. "McGonagall should be back soon."

Lily was still looking at me worriedly. "Abigail…are you – ?"

"Fine," I said quickly. "I'm fine."

When I made it clear I wasn't sticking around, we quickly exchanged our goodbyes. I practically ran back to my dormitory. Annoyed with myself, I could feel my eyes starting to shine with tears. But they weren't even sad tears. This time, I was angry.

I burst into the common room noisily, knocking over a lamp in my haste. It crashed onto the floor, shattering into shards.

The tears were spilling onto my cheeks now. "Oh, bullocks," I whispered, picking up a few shards. In my clumsy state, one of them sliced my left hand.

Behind me, the door opened and James walked in. I quickly wiped away my tears with my good hand. He'd probably seen enough of my tears to last a lifetime.

"Abigail, what's – " he started to say. I don't know if it was the shards on the floor, the tears on my face, or the blood on my hand, but he dropped his bags and crouched down next to me. "Hey, hey," he said worriedly, wiping a few tears away with his thumbs. "What's going on?"

Ignoring the unfortunate feeling of déjà vu, I tossed the few shards on the ground, frustrated. "Merlin, everything's just so _fucked _up!" I cried, a few tears escaping. "I was just leaving dinner, and then all of a sudden I have to go to detention!" He raised his eyebrows at me. "I mean, McGonagall had me set up detention for a student. Well, actually it was Lily," I explained, feeling crazed. I hadn't really spoken in weeks and now it was all just spilling out.

"Again?" he said, unsurprised.

"And we were in the trophy room," I continued, not really hearing him. "God, and for five fucking minutes it was almost like I'd forgotten about it! And then he was _there_. In the goddamn trophy room!"

Merlin, I was acting like a crazy person. James looked very confused. "Abigail, you're not really making sense…" he said.

"It's just…" I started.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. He was right, I wasn't making sense. But I _wanted _to. I didn't want to feel so bottled up anymore.

"I think I'm ready," I said slowly, meeting his eyes. "To talk."

He nodded, as though he'd known I would be. He helped me stand up and we moved over to the couch in front of the fireplace. As I sat down, he ran into his bedroom. A second later, he emerged with an old t-shirt.

He sat closely next to me and wrapped my injured hand with the shirt, holding my hand with both of his. "Alright. Now, explain to me what happened as though I were, say, _really_ stupid. Totally hypothetically, of course," he said with a smile.

I laughed softly at him, wiping the last of the tears away. "I was in the trophy room with Lily and I saw the Heads' plaque," I explained. "You know, the one with the list of all the Head Boys and Girls…"

"Yeah, I think I've seen it."

"I saw my dad's name," I said quietly. "He was Head Boy in 1999."

James was silent for a few moments, apparently taking this in. I couldn't blame him. It was pretty surprising. "Wow," he said finally. "Head Boy. And no one ever told you?"

I shook my head. "No one seemed to think it was that important. Not my uncle, not McGonagall…"

"Well, is it, though? Important?" he asked, not unkindly. "I mean, I know your dad is a sensitive topic, but what about it made you so upset?"

I thought about this for a moment. To be honest, I hadn't really thought about why it had upset me so much. The second I saw his name though, things felt different.

"I think…" I said. "I guess I've just always considered my dad as a deadbeat. I mean, he abandoned me, you know? That's not exactly exemplary behavior…I think it was just easier to assume that he was some kind of failure."

"And seeing that he was Head boy…" James trailed off.

I nodded. "It was like a slap to the face," I answered. "He was obviously responsible enough to be Head Boy, but he wasn't responsible enough to handle a kid? It's messed up. And my uncle never even told me about it…I think I'm angry at him," I confessed, trailing off. "Him _and_ my dad."

I didn't know what else to say. James had started rubbing soothing circles on my hand with his fingertips. I relaxed a little, gaining comfort from his presence. My hands were growing all tingly from his touch. We were quiet for a long time before he said something.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked. "After talking about it?"

I thought for a while before answering. "I don't know," I said truthfully. "I'm glad I talked about it, but I still feel…I don't know. Emotionally hungover. Everything sort of hurts," I said quietly.

"Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day," he said lightly. "You're not just going to get over this in a week. It'll probably take some time."

Suddenly, I felt a little silly for dropping all my problems on him. "Look, you're being great, James. And I really appreciate it," I said, looking him in the eyes. "But you don't have to listen to all my problems. I'm sure you probably have better things to do."

"Hey, I'm still here, aren't I?" he said, smiling. "I'm not going anywhere."

To my embarrassment, my eyes welled up with fresh tears. Merlin, if I wasn't such a wreck, I might have kissed him. "Yeah," I said softly. "I know."

A little while later, after I had talked myself hoarse, he walked me to my bedroom and said goodnight as if nothing had changed. As if I hadn't lost it in front of him twice in three weeks. That stupid Potter. A normal boy would run away as fast as they could, but James Potter wasn't exactly normal.

He was so… irritatingly thoughtful. And good. Things would have been so much easier if I could just hate him and move on. I could go back to the way things used to be. But I didn't hate him. At all. And as I slipped into bed, desperately trying to avoid any thoughts that would cause me to crumble again, I realized something that would change my entire world.

For the first time in my life, I didn't feel alone. I had always had Dom, Morgan, and Molly. They were my best friends in the entire world, and that would never change. But in the past months that we'd gotten closer, I'd started feeling whole in a way I'd never experienced before.

He was the first thing I thought of when I woke up, and the last thing I thought of before I went to bed. When something good happened to me, he was the first person I wanted to tell. When I read the heartbreaking words my father had written, he was the one person I'd wanted to find me. He was the only one I wanted to spill my guts to. I wanted him to know me inside and out. I didn't know why exactly, but I knew I wanted him to be there.

A voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like Dom said, _Of course you know why, you dolt. You're in lo-_

_ Don't be stupid, _I told myself. It wasn't _that_. _That's just ridiculous. I can't handle that right now. _

But right then, him just being there… that was all I needed.

* * *

**A/N:** Ohhhhh yeaahhhhhhhh. It's all coming out now.

Anyway, thanks for all the fantastic reviews! And, of course, a big WELCOME to all the new story followers! The feedback you all are giving is really wonderful, keep it up!

See you crazy cats next week.


	20. All These Things I've Done

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "All These Things I've Done" belongs to The Killers.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: All These Things That I've Done**

"_Don't you put me on the backburner. You know you've got to help me out. You're gonna bring yourself down."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"But–"

"Don't you 'but' me, Abigail King," Dom scolded.

I scoffed. "Come on, guys," I pleaded. "This is–"

"Non-negotiable," Molly interrupted.

"Look, we're not trying to upset you, Abigail," Morgan said gently. "But you need to leave eventually."

They'd been in my room for a half an hour trying to convince me to go to Hogsmeade. Apparently my anti-social behavior was starting to worry them. But I hadn't been _completely _anti-social. I'd talked to Lily at her detention a few days ago…and James. I'd talked to James. We just hadn't spoken since then because I was always in my bedroom.

Okay so maybe the girls did have a point.

"It's just the facts, King. Lack of sunlight causes many deficiencies," Dom said, matter-of-factly. She ticked off her fingers with every reason. "Low levels of vitamin D, bad skin –"

"Like you aren't pale enough," Molly inserted. I shot her a look.

"General unhappiness," Dom continued. "And… and no friends! Because if you don't leave this room soon, I don't think we can continue on our seven year stretch of friendship. Besides, I have practice at six so we'll only be gone a few hours. That is…if you decide to leave your _cave._"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Alright, drama queen," I deadpanned. "I'll go to Hogsmeade."

"Oh, thank Merlin," Morgan breathed. Molly started rummaging around my room for something I could wear.

"But only for the sake of my skin," I shot at them sourly.

* * *

A few hours later, we were in Hogsmeade. We were all bundled up in scarves and hats, trying to escape the freezing February air. Though the holiday had passed, some of the shops were still displaying their decorations for Valentine's Day, pink and red hearts looking obnoxiously vivid against the rest of the white and gray village.

Dom was linking arms with me, scowling at the decorations. "God, I hated Valentine's Day," she grumbled.

"I still can't believe Brian Corner broke up with you in Madame Pudifoot's," Molly remarked. "What a prick."

"And I don't even think we were ever officially together in the first place! We just snogged all the time," Dom commented. "But I hate Valentine's Day anyway. It's just some stupid consumer holiday to remind girls like us that we're all perpetually single."

For some reason, I thought of James. _Don't be stupid, _I scolded myself. _You're single. _Why was I even thinking of James? He had nothing to do with this conversation. Absolutely nothing.

Morgan coughed slightly. "Well," she said, embarrassed. "We're not _all _single."

Molly, Dom, and I spun around instantly, gaping at her. "_What?_" I gasped.

She looked ready to burst, she was smiling so widely. "Fred and I are dating," she said.

"When did this happen?" Molly demanded.

Morgan's face fell a little. "Well, a little more than three weeks ago," she admitted. She glanced at me carefully. "It was actually the night that…"

Three weeks ago. "The night I got the letter from my dad," I said, making my face an emotionless mask. I could feel Molly and Dom watching my face carefully.

"And you've been keeping it secret all this time?" Dom asked, shocked.

"Look, I didn't want to say anything," Morgan rushed worriedly. "I didn't seem like the right time."

I smiled sadly. "You didn't have to wait to tell me," I said. "If something amazing happens to you, you should always be able to talk to me. No matter what's going on."

"You know, you're the greatest friend, Abigail," Morgan said, squeezing my hand. "But… are you okay?"

I felt my face tighten up. "I don't know what you mean."

"Come on, Abigail," Dom said gently. "You know what she means."

I looked down at my feet in the snow. I wished I could sink down into the white and disappear. I didn't want to have to face this.

"Look, I'm – "

"Is that you, Abigail?"

My friends and I all turned around at the familiar voice of my Uncle Matt. He was walking out of the Three Broomsticks, coming towards us. Wearing only a thin jacket and a pair of gloves, he looked freezing. He was squinting at me, his face worried.

Seeing him so near, after being apart for so long, I should have been ecstatic to see my uncle. But for some reason, I felt myself grow warm with anger.

He stopped in front of us. "I thought that was you, kiddo," he said warmly.

"What are you doing here?" I asked sharply.

His face contorted with surprise at my tone. My friends, too, all started at my unexpected reaction. "You never wrote me back after…the last letter I sent you," he said gently. "I wanted to come check up on you. I was worried."

"You can't just pop up in my life whenever you want," I shot at him.

I felt one of my friends pinch the skin on my arm. "Abigail, why are you acting like this?" Dom said quietly, so only I could hear her. But I didn't answer her.

My uncle's face lost all the gentleness I was used to. "Being your legal guardian," he said strongly, "I can pretty much _pop up _whenever I feel like it."

It was always a rare occurrence for Uncle Matt and me to get into an argument, but when it did happen, I was always reminded that my strong-willed personality and stubbornness was a family trait.

He glanced at Morgan, Molly and Dom, all looking very uncomfortable with the situation. "If you girls would excuse us, I'm going to borrow my niece for a walk," he said in his strong fatherly voice. Noticing that I wasn't moving, he added, "_Now._"

He turned to leave and I stalked after him. We said nothing to each other. He didn't stop until we reached the edge of Hogsmeade, closer to the Shrieking Shack. Only a few kids were milling about.

He crossed his arms at me. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

"Did you know?" I demanded without prelude. "About my dad being Head Boy?"

He said nothing for a long time, but his silence was all I needed to confirm it. I shook my head at him, laughing without humor. "How could you keep something like that from me?" I cried, my voice cracking.

"Would it have made a difference?" he said, exasperated.

"Yes!" I shouted. "I don't know…Maybe! But it shouldn't have been your call to make!"

"And why not?" he shot back. "I'm your guardian, Abigail. It's my job to protect you!"

"I didn't need protecting from this!" My voice ran through the clearing, my words echoing back at me. "Growing up, all I wanted was to know _something _about him! Anything! And making Head Girl didn't raise any red flags to you? You didn't think, 'Huh, Abigail's Head Girl now, she's starting to take after her father? Maybe I should tell her?'"

Then, my uncle's face filled with sadness. He came up to stand right in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Oh, kiddo," he said softly. "That's exactly why I _didn't_ tell you."

I felt a tear escape the corner of my eye and I brushed it away impatiently. "What? Is taking after him such a bad thing?"

"I thought it would upset you, being close to him in that way," he said simply. "I didn't want it to change anything."

"Whether you like it or not, it changes things." I took a deep breath. "Look, I understand that you were trying to protect me," I said, trying to control the anger in my voice, "And I know he did a crap job and he abandoned me and I should hate him for that, but he was – is my _dad_. It was important." I stepped away from my uncle, taking his hands off my shoulders. "You know I love you, Uncle Matt, more than anything in the world," I said. "But right now I'm really, _really _angry at you."

Before he could say anything else, I turned around and walked all the way back to the castle, without stopping or looking back.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

_With Potter in possession: At midfield point, move into a 'V' formation. Pass to Thomas. Thomas fakes right, passes to Peakes for possession. And –_

"And get blindsided by Ravenclaw beaters," I mumbled, scribbling out my notes. "Recipe for disaster."

I'd decided to forgo Hogsmeade that weekend to come up with some brilliant last minute play to save us in the big game tomorrow. It was the third match of the season and the game's outcome, Fred often said, would predict the rest of the season. For at least three hours, I had been sitting in the Head's common room, scribbling away at Fred's playbook, desperately trying to invent some new, awe-inspiring game plan. I was just about to throw the whole book across the room went Abigail burst into the room.

She walked right past me and into her room, obviously too worked up to notice me. I furrowed my brows and stood up, walking to her room.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. It looked like she was cleaning her room, hurriedly throwing things in her closet and slamming all of her drawers closed, but I'd never considered tidying up to be so violent.

I cleared my throat. "Everything okay in here?" I asked.

She stopped moving and sighed. Putting a hand to her forehead, she said, "Look, James, I really can't do this right now."

"Do what?" I asked, sliding my hands into my pockets. "I've barely said anything. Is something wrong?"

"Everything's perfect," she snapped.

I cocked my head to the side. "Really?" I retorted. "'Cause it doesn't seem like it. Do you want to…to talk or something?"

"Merlin, Potter. That's the last thing I want to do right now," she said hotly, shoving a book into her wardrobe.

I felt myself cringe at her use of my surname. I was trying hard not to, but I felt myself get angrier and more confused by the second. "Why are you acting like this?" I said heatedly.

"God, I'm not here for your psychiatric evaluation, James!" she shouted at me suddenly, her face red. "I don't want you to comfort me. I don't want to talk about anything! Why don't you just sod off!"

"What the hell is your problem, Abigail?" I yelled back. "We haven't fought like this in months and now all of a sudden you want to have a go at me?"

"Why don't you just leave me alone, then!" she shot back. "Why are you still even here?"

"Merlin, is it really that hard for you to understand?" I shouted. "Because I– "

"What the _bloody hell _is going on here?" someone yelled.

Spinning around, my chest heaving, I saw Fred standing in the common room. His brows were furrowed in confusion.

"What are you doing here?" I said sharply, still feeling angry. I heard Abigail moving around in her room behind me, but I didn't dare look back at her. I was afraid one of us would start yelling again.

"I came to get the playbook before practice," he said, giving Abigail a pointed look. "But apparently I picked the wrong time."

She slammed the door behind me, nearly clipping my back. I groaned loudly, dragging both hands through my hair. I stalked over to the nearest armchair and threw myself into it.

Fred calmly walked over and sat in the couch across from me. He had that look on his face, the one he got whenever he was about to say something profound. But he stayed silent.

"What?" I shot at him. "No speech from the inspiring Fred Weasley? Don't you have some words of wisdom to give me?"

He stood up suddenly. "Not for you," Fred said thoughtfully. "Not this time."

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

Before I even had the chance to get my thoughts together or start feeling truly disgusted with myself, there was a knock at the door.

I sighed. "Go _away, _James."

The door opened anyway, but it was not James walking in my room. It was Fred. Very calmly, he came in and shut the door behind him. He stared at me, not saying anything.

Suddenly, seeing myself in the eyes of my friend, I felt extremely disappointed in myself. "Listen – "

"King, you need to get your shit together."

My eyes widened. I was not expecting that. "_Fred _–"

He put up a hand. "No, Abigail. Look, Morgan and the girls are too nice to hurt your feelings and James cares about you too much to say anything, but I know you," he said, not unkindly. "I know this thing with your dad is really hard. I can't even begin to understand what you're going through. But I know you're stronger than this."

I sighed, looking at my friend apologetically. "I know," I said sadly.

He sat down next to me on the bed. "You have way too many people that care about you for you to start treating them like shit. You'll get through all the bad stuff and we'll all still be there," he told me. "Especially James. You can't hate him for wanting to make sure you're okay."

I didn't correct him about how much exactly I _didn't _hate James. It was just the opposite. But, Merlin, I had a really shitty way of showing it. I put my face in my hands. "Merlin, I'm such a sad excuse for a human being," I moaned. I glanced over at him. "It was pretty bad, wasn't it?"

He made a face. "Yeah, kind of."

"Fuck," I mumbled.

He put a friendly arm around my shoulders. "Nah, he'll forgive you," he reassured me.

I stood up. "I should go talk to him."

"Like hell you are," he said. "I've already sent him to practice. We're running plays straight through dinner, so you probably won't even see him tonight."

I threw my hands up, my eyes widening incredulously. "Fred! What was the point of this whole speech if I can't apologize to him afterwards?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I didn't exactly think it through," he admitted. "I guess you'll just have to talk to him after the game tomorrow…"

"Apparently," I said.

But for the first time in weeks, I felt the weight lifted off of my chest. I didn't want to keep being so sad and angry all the time. I didn't want to keep making myself and others feel bad. I wanted to make a change.

And I was going to make it happen.

* * *

**A/N: **In which Abigail is a bitch, and then a bitch again, James gets rightfully pissed, and Fred owns. THE WORLD.

Sorry it's quite short, but it was a needed filler chapter. See you champions next week!


	21. Emergency

**Hello, lovelies!** When you're finished reading, **please** read the author's note at the bottom! But for now, enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Emergency" is belongs to Paramore.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: Emergency**

"_I think we have an emergency. If you thought I'd leave then you were wrong 'cause I won't stop holding on."_

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

I'd spotted her in the stands before the match even started. My eyes didn't leave her as the teams walked onto the pitch. Abigail, Molly, and Morgan were huddled together, one huge scarlet and gold blanket wrapped around all three of them. Seeing me, Abigail gave a little wave.

Well, that was a good sign. Usually people don't wave to people they're furious at.

As we reached center-field, Fred noticed me watching her. "Mate, things will work out," he promised, clapping me on the back.

Dom caught up with us, balancing her broom on her shoulders. "Abigail mentioned she wanted to talk to you after the game," she noted. "So don't get your knickers in a twist and screw up the match."

Fred shot her a look. "What our cousin _means,_" he saved, "is to just keep a clear head during the game."

"Alright, alright," I mumbled. "Got it."

But it was easier said than done. Almost an hour into the match, my mind was racing with way too many things.

For one thing, the conditions were horrible. About forty minutes into the match, it had started snowing relentlessly and hadn't stopped. I had almost slipped off my broom trying to send the quaffle to Ryan.

Another thing – one of the Ravenclaw beaters, Jordan Kleishman, had been sending bludger after bludger at me the entire game. As if the conditions weren't enough, I had another force working against me.

But the thing that was causing me the most stress wasn't even a part of the game. The problem was… my mind kept going back to Abigail.

"Macdonald, get open!" I called to my fellow chaser across the pitch. I'd had possession of the quaffle for a few minutes and it seemed like the whole of Ravenclaw team was working against me.

"Get this bloke off my back first, Weasleys!" she shouted to Fred and Dom. Sheila had one of Ravenclaw's Chasers tailing her for at least ten minutes.

In just seconds, both Dom and Fred sent their bludgers at the Chaser, forcing him to pull back and dodge them.

Sheila raised her hand, gesturing to me. "Okay, Potter, I'm –" She broke off, her eyes growing wide. "_POTTER!_"

I wouldn't realize what all the commotion was about until much later, but in the back of my mind, I registered a collective gasp around the pitch. All of a sudden, hundreds of people were shouting my name, but one stood out above all the others.

Maybe it was because she was currently occupying my thoughts to a pathetic level or because I had grown so familiar to her voice in the past few months, but Abigail's panicked voice seemed louder than all the others. I heard her and everything was black.

"_James! Look out!"_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"James! Look out!" I shrieked.

It had happened so fast. One second James was trying to pass the quaffle to Sheila and the next, that bastard Kleishman from Ravenclaw was sending a bludger right at James's head.

The whole stadium seemed to gasp when it happened. Morgan was gripping my arm to a painful level and Molly was mumbling curse words under her breath. James slipped from his broom the second it hit him, sending him falling to the ground at an alarming speed. He had been so high up when it hit him.

"Oh my God," a girl behind me breathed. Everyone in the Gryffindor section had jumped to their feet and were all panicking in hushed tones.

I was sure my heart had stopped. I scanned the pitch looking for something, someone that could help him. "Somebody _do something!"_ I screamed.

Fred had been hovering across the pitch in shock, but when he heard my voice he snapped out of it. I saw him shout to someone and suddenly, he and Dom were moving at lightning speed. In seconds, they'd managed to catch his arms just before he hit the ground. The velocity of James's fall dragged all three of them down, sending them crashing to the ground. But it was definitely a more graceful landing than what could have happened.

Fred and Dom quickly got up, moving to tend to James. All sense seemed to leave my body and without wasting another second, I hiked myself over the railing and ran towards them. At center field, Dom and Fred were crouched beside him, not touching him. I heard Madam Spokes, the referee, call a pause of gameplay.

"Is he going to be okay?" I gasped, my heart racing. He was slumped on his back, one of his arms twisted at a strange angle.

"I think so," Fred said worriedly. "He's breathing so…"

Someone hovered above us on their broom. "No spectators on the field," that bastard Kleishman sneered evilly. "Someone get her out of here!"

I spun around and looked up at him, desperately forcing myself to refrain from flicking him off. "Shut it, Kleishman!" I shouted at him. "Being Head Girl, I'm exempt from the spectator's ban!" I had no idea if this was true but it sounded really good when I said it. "And I could also give you a bloody detention for unsportsmanlike conduct, you _prick_."

The crowd gave some "_Ooohs" _at my comeback. Kleishman just sputtered some stupid reply and flew away. Bastard.

Madam Burke, the school nurse, and Madam Spokes both came rushing up behind us. "Nobody move him!" Madam Burke called. "I'll have to levitate him to the Hospital Wing."

"I'll come with you," I said quickly.

Together we levitated James back up to school, the sound of the game disappearing behind us. Morgan, Molly, Mitch, Lily, and James's brother Al followed us to the Hospital Wing.

Settling him into a bed, Madam Burke examined him, declaring him to only have a cracked skull and a broken arm. I sat down on the edge of his cot quickly, feeling too worried to stand.

"_Only?_" Lily exclaimed as we all gathered around him. "You make it sound like its minor."

Al shrugged. "It actually is," he noted. "For a Quidditch injury at least."

"Yeah," Mitch added lightly. "In second year, James broke both legs in the final."

I shot him a look, letting him know he was _not _helping my nerves. He just shrugged lamely in response. Morgan and Molly were both patting me on the back, trying to soothe me. I forced myself to breathe for what felt like the first time in twenty minutes.

"He should wake up in ten minutes or so," Madam Burke reassured us. "I'll just have to keep him for a few days to monitor his head."

Honestly, James didn't even look that bad. He had a few scrapes on his face, but with his head and arm all wrapped up, he didn't seem as broken as he'd looked on the pitch. He could have been taking a nap.

Suddenly, the Hospital Wing doors burst open and Fred, Dom, and Ryan rushed up to us.

"Is he alright?" Ryan asked, putting an arm around my shoulder. I must have looked white as a sheet for the way people kept comforting me…

"He'll be fine," I breathed. James jostled a little in his sleep in front of me. I almost put my hand out to comfort him, but stopped myself.

Fred walked up to Morgan. "Hey," he said to her. "Are you – _umph!"_

Morgan had thrown her arms around Fred and kissed him on the lips, in front of everyone. Dom snorted and Ryan let out a low whistle. Fred had grown still at the sudden contact, but slowly relaxed, putting his arms around her waist.

"Well," he said when she released him. He'd grown a little pink in the cheeks. "Hello to you, too."

Though she had just been kissing him, she scowled and smacked his arm. "Merlin, you could've gotten hurt!" she scolded him. "You stupid, noble boy."

"Hey, I helped save James too!" Dom interjected. "But you don't see anyone kissing me." Apparently feeling left out, Dom scanned the room. "How 'bout you, Mitch?" she said suggestively. "Feel like a snog?"

As we all laughed, Mitch grew bright red. Before he could grace Dom's proposition with a sputtering response, Professor McGonagall joined us.

She stayed in the doorway, making eye contact with me. "Miss King," she said sternly. "A word in my office."

It wasn't a question, so I didn't hesitate. I glanced at my friends, now all sobered up by the Headmistress's appearance. This was probably about me yelling about Kleishman. I frantically glanced at Dom. She gave me a look as to say, _Calm down, we've got this._

I sighed and nodded, turning to leave. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. "Madam Burke," I called to the nurse. "Can I come visit him after this?"

She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Visiting hours end in twenty minutes," she announced, addressing all of us. "If you are back before then, you very well may visit."

I nodded and waved goodbye to my friends, taking one last glance at the sleeping Head Boy before me.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

I'd never experienced the kind of ache I currently felt in my body ever before. Realizing I no longer had the pleasure of unconsciousness, I slowly opened my eyes.

I groaned, seeing the faces of my friends and siblings. "What an ugly lot," I mumbled. I tried to sit up, noticing with displeasure that my left arm was in a sling.

"Speak for yourself," Al laughed. Everyone was smiling widely, looking at me fondly. It was strangely uncomfortable.

I tried to pull myself up again, but this time Lily grabbed my shoulder and assisted me. I smiled at her in gratitude. "So…" I began. "What exactly happened?"

"Well," Fred said, "Kleishman sent a bludger at your head and you fell about a hundred feet."

"Won the game, though," Mitch interrupted with a smile. "So I guess you're not that useful on the team, are you?"

"Ha, ha," I deadpanned. I turned my head to shoot a look at him, but a pain shot through my temple. I grimanced.

Dom put a hand on my unhurt arm. She still looked a little worried. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"I feel like someone sent a bludger to my head and I fell a hundred feet," I responded, smiling sarcastically. As everyone laughed, I noticed something strange. It was like something was missing. Suddenly, it occurred to me. "Where's Abigail?" How could I have not noticed right away?

"You just missed her," Morgan answered, standing next to Fred. "McGonagall came to get her."

"Yeah, I expect she's in for a scolding," Molly said with a laugh. Everyone exchanged amused glanced.

"Did I miss something?" I asked, my brows furrowing in confusion.

"Mate, it was crazy," Ryan said excitedly. "When you fell, King went all ninja and hopped over the stands onto the pitch. Then Kleishman got on her for being on the field and she threatened him with detention and called him a prick."

"In front of_ everyone_," Mitch added.

"Including the teachers," Morgan said gravely.

I stared at them in shock. "You're kidding," I said. They all assured me they were not. "All the good stuff happens when I'm unconscious," I joked.

But hopefully this meant she wasn't still angry at me. I wanted to see her but within minutes, Madame Burke was back and ushered everyone out of the Hospital Wing. Visiting hours were over and I needed to take some medicine. I gulped down the offending liquid and soon enough, I was asleep.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I followed McGonagall quietly to the Headmistress's office. Other than a quick "Jelly slug" to open up her office, she did not say a word to me until we were inside.

In my mind, I knew I should have felt more nervous at being summoned to the Headmistress's office, especially after I publicly abused my power and used language, but I honestly wasn't bothered at all. I was too relieved that James was going to be okay.

McGonagall took a seat behind her desk. She gestured at the chair in front of her and I sat down. "I assume you know why I've brought you here," she said sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered. "And I'm really, _really _sorry. I shouldn't have said anything to Kleishman."

"Miss King, you used your position as a privilege and used language in front of most of the school and its faculty," she stated. "I won't tolerate it."

"I know," I said, ashamed. "I'm so sorry."

"The next time this happens…" she started threateningly.

I prepared myself for it. She was going to threaten to take away my Head Girl badge. I mean, that could happen, right? Suddenly, I felt as if all the past Headmasters were staring at me in their portraits, judging the awful Head Girl I'd been. I stared down at my hands, expecting the worst.

She took a deep breath and finished, "Please do not do it so loudly." A couple of the portraits chuckled.

My head shot up and my eyes widened. "Headmistress?" I asked in shock.

She seemed to think it over. "Well, just don't let it happen again," she settled.

I couldn't believe my ears. "You mean… I'm not in trouble? _At all?_"

She sort of shrugged. "Miss King, I cannot punish you for threatening him with detention since I probably would have done the same thing myself. Except, of course, without using the same language." She gave me a pointed look.

I felt myself grow warm. "Sorry about that," I mumbled.

"Besides," the Headmistress continued, "I've been urging Madam Spokes to make a rule against bludgers to the head for years."

"So if I'm not in trouble," I asked, confused, "why did I have to come all the way to your office?"

For the first time in seven years of knowing her, I saw Professor McGonagall with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Because, Miss King," she said firmly, "I've just given you a stern scolding regarding the use of language and abusing your position, as to the request of some of the faculty. In fact," she added, "I've even threatened to give you detention for a month if it should happen again. And rest assured, Miss King, that I will deny that this conversation ever happened."

I almost laughed at the strangeness of the situation. "So this whole thing was basically just a formality."

And then the mischief was gone and my Headmistress was back. She raised her eyebrows. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Miss King," she said lightly. "You are dismissed."

I got up to leave, shaking my head with happy disbelief. I'd almost made it out the door when she called me again.

"One more thing, Miss King," she said. I turned to look at her. "How is Potter?"

Quickly, I glanced at my watch. I sighed, realizing that the Hospital Wing closed four minutes ago. "He has a cracked skull and a broken arm, but apparently that's minor," I answered. "He's going to be fine."

"Very good," she said, focusing on some papers on her desk. "You take care of that boy, Miss King."

I wasn't sure how to answer her, but McGonagall was already done with the conversation. She did not look up from her work or speak to me again. I left quietly and returned to the Head's dorms.

Before going to my own room, I walked past James's bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, I glanced inside. There were papers and books strewn everywhere, his Polaroid camera sitting on the desk. I was overcome with how worried I'd been when he fell and how relieved I'd been when I knew he was going to be okay. I took a deep breath. He was going to be okay.

Suddenly losing all sense, I walked forward, climbed into his bed, and wrapped the sheets around me. And then, feeling strangely at home in a bed I'd slept in twice before, I closed my eyes and dreamed.

* * *

**A/N: **So this wasn't exactly a big reunion scene that a few of you were hoping for, but I think it definitely added some excitement! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.

But more importantly, I have a minor announcement: **I will not be able to post a chapter this coming Friday. **I'm going to be out of town for the weekend and I won't have access to the internet. So the next chapter will be posted October 19th. Hopefully you all will understand, but I promise the next chapter is a good one!

However, in my small absence, please feel free to reread the whole freaking story and review to your beautiful hearts' contents. I heart you guys. SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS!


	22. The Heart Never Lies

**A/N:** I'm BACK! After the long wait, here is your next (and dare I say pretty awesome) chapter! Enjoy, my pretties.**  
**

* * *

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "The Heart Never Lies" is belongs to McFly.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The Heart Never Lies**

"_The day that you fall, I'll be right behind you to pick up the pieces. If you don't believe me, just look into my eyes 'cause the heart never lies."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

All night I was plagued by dreams of falling. Except I wasn't falling - James was.

I think I might have woken up seven times during the course of the night, but every time I closed my eyes again, I was in the Quidditch pitch watching James fall. But unlike reality, he didn't always suffer a cracked skull and broken arm.

Sometimes he was perfectly fine. During one dream, I ran over to him and he opened his eyes. He leaned up and kissed me. Dom and Fred weren't there. That time, when I woke up, I screamed into James's pillow in frustration. But most of the others weren't as pleasant. Once, I ran over to Fred and Dom kneeling over his broken body. But this time, he wasn't breathing. And when I woke up, I felt like I couldn't breathe either.

At some point, I gave up and forced myself to stay awake. I walked around James's room, flipping through old school books or looking at the Polaroid photographs he'd pinned up on the walls. Part of me knew that I should have felt weird, like I was invading his privacy or something. But honestly, I felt fine. And it didn't make sense, but I felt like I belonged there or something. I knew I belonged there.

Eventually, I heard a banging at the main door of the dorms. Molly was there, telling me I'd missed breakfast and we were already late for History of Magic. I had blanched, realizing I'd probably been sitting on James's floor for about an hour, doing absolutely nothing. But seriously, _I missed breakfast. _We all knew that breakfast was my happy time.

On the way to class, with Molly chattering away at my side, I let my mind go. Everything I had been battling within myself for God knows how long finally reached the finish line.

For a day, my stomach had been twisted in knots and it felt like the world was weighing down on my chest. I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep and I didn't know why. But in that moment, the truth came rushing at me like a train.

And when I realized it, I literally stopped short in the doorway of the classroom.

Molly glanced over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows. "Abigail," she said impatiently. "Class is about to start. Dom and Morgan saved us seats."

What I felt for James was unlike anything I'd ever experienced with someone before. I had dated before, sure. In fourth year, Timmy Harper and I went on three dates in Hogsmeade. He even kissed me once, but like most things in my life, it eventually faded to nothing special. In fifth year, I got caught up in a meaningless romance with a boy named Damian Smith. I don't think we were ever officially together, we just snogged a lot. One day, I saw him snogging another girl. I was upset for a while, but I knew that it wasn't that special in the first place, so why make a stink about it?

But, James…James was different. I felt consumed by him. It wasn't the fluffy romance with Timmy Harper, or the physical aspect with Damian. It was everything and more.

"Miss King," a dull voice barked, interrupting my epiphany. "Do you plan on joining my class today?"

I warmed and rushed over to my seat by my friends, apologizing to Professor Binns. Molly shot me a concerned look. She probably thought I was being so spacey today.

The ghost continued with his instructions. "Today, class," he began, "you may use the whole period as an opportunity to study for your upcoming NEWT exams. You may _quietly _work in groups, if you'd like. Though," he added, shooting a wary glance towards my table, "I don't encourage it."

Dom scoffed and immediately turned to me. "What in Merlin's name is the matter with you?" she demanded quietly, though she looked very concerned.

Morgan put a hand on my arm. "Yeah, Abigail," she said. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Molly glanced at our spectral professor and snorted.

I ignored her. "I can't really talk about it right here," I explained, glancing at our classmates. The whole class had formed little groups around the classroom, apparently taking advantage of the "study" opportunity like we had. Only one table was especially close to ours.

Dom bit her lip, thinking. Suddenly, she pulled out her wand, pointed it at the neighboring table, and whispered something. I didn't notice anything in particular happen, but Professor Binns looked over at us, suspiciously.

"What did you do?" Morgan asked as Dom put her wand away, looking triumphant.

"It's a _Muffliato _charm," she explained. "Uncle Harry taught it to me. They won't be able to hear our conversation now, but I think Binns might be out of range." She glanced over at our professor. "I'm not that great at it, but Abigail, you look like you really need to talk."

"Yeah," Molly added. "You kind of have crazy-eyes."

Morgan smacked her. She glanced at me across the table. I'd always known Morgan had a knack for reading people, but right then it seemed like she could read my thoughts. Maybe it was because, out of all my friends, Morgan knew exactly where I was coming from.

She looked at me, understanding. "This is about James," she said.

I looked down at the desk, feeling my friends' gazes on me. "Maybe I'm just going mad," I suggested hopefully. "That would be more logical."

"What are you on about?" Dom said gently.

I didn't really hear her. "I mean, anything would make more sense than _that_, right? Look, stuff like this doesn't happen to me. I don't _let _it happen to me. Oh my God, and he's still probably mad at me!"

Molly looked confused. "Let _what _happen to you?" she said loudly.

"Mrs. Weasley," our professor called in warning. Apparently, he_ could_ still hear us. We all stared at him for a minute, waiting for him to get back to his work. After a moment, he looked away.

I sighed. "What if something had happened to him?" I whispered, finally looking at my friends. "To James, I mean."

Molly, being uncharacteristically gentle, took my hand. "James is _fine_, Abigail," she reassured me. "Perfectly fine."

"But…I'm not. I think…" I started, but I shook my head and stopped. I didn't allow myself to act this way. I was tired of feeling small and vulnerable.

_Stop it, King._ These were my best friends, I reminded myself. They would never judge me.

I took a deep breath. "I think I'm in love with him," I said quietly, almost whispering. "A little bit."

A pause. "Oh my God, _finally,_" Dom groaned loudly, causing the whole class to look over.

"Miss Weasley," Professor Binns scolded. "I said quiet groups. Next time that happens, it will change to _silent groups!"_

"_Love _can't be silenced," she shot back.

My eyes widened. Morgan quickly pulled her arm, forcing her back around. Thankfully, Professor Binns passed this as Dom's normal behavior and rolled his eyes, returning back to his work. The rest of the class had either missed or ignored the exchange.

"Oh," I gasped, "my God."

"Wow, you have no self control, Dom," Molly observed.

Dom rolled her eyes. "Oh, you were thinking it too," she said offhandedly. "Can we get back to the matter at hand?" She smiled at me. "Our Abigail's in love."

I glanced at my friends. All three of them were smiling at me in a way I could only describe as…sweetly. Molly even sighed. Like…wistfully. I felt my face grow warm.

"Merlin, would you all calm down?" I mumbled, embarrassed. I hated being the center of attention. "This doesn't change anything."

Morgan smiled. "Oh, it does," she told me. "But only in the best possible way."

Slowly, I let myself smile back at her. I'd said it. Out loud. I was in love with him. James Potter. I loved James.

Holy shit. When did things get so topsy-turvy?

"You should go see him," Molly suggested. "After class."

The idea of seeing him, after everything I'd said today, sent my heart racing. I glanced at my watch. It was half-past nine. Class would be over soon. And I had a serious apology to make. For as much that had gone on in the past two days, I still hadn't spoken to James since I yelled at him in my bedroom. "Yeah," I decided. "Maybe I will."

"Miss King!" Professor Binns called, annoyed. "That is _quite _enough talking from you and your friends!"

For a moment, my best friends and I were silent. Then slowly, we all started quietly laughing, covering our mouths in a sad attempt to swallow the noise. And they all smiled at me again. All sweetly-like. _Merlin,_ I thought, rolling my eyes at them. But I smiled back. God, I loved these girls.

"So," Molly murmured, breaking the silly silence. "This is for real, then? Like, _proper_ love?"

I shot her a look. "I slept in his bed last night," I told her quietly.

"Bloody hell," Morgan whispered. Dom chuckled.

"I know."

* * *

**Fred Weasley**

"Do you want to come in with me?" I asked Morgan, pushing a lock of curly hair behind her ear.

We were standing outside the Hospital Wing. I was balancing a couple books and a plate of food in one hand. I figured I'd bring some normal food to James. He was probably getting sick of the Hospital Wing food.

"Hmmm," she mused, considering it. "No, I should probably get started on my homework."

I scoffed. "Who even does that stuff anymore?" I joked.

She laughed, throwing her head back. My heart sped up a little, reacting to her. I loved hearing her laugh.

She made a face, remembering something. "I wonder if he'll be awake," she said. "Abigail's been to see him twice today, and she says he was sleeping both times."

"Huh. Well I'll just have to change that then," I responded, smirking. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Of course," she answered, smiling. She gave me a quick kiss and walked away. I watched her go, a dumb smile probably still on my face.

After calling out a quick greeting to Madame Burke in her office, I walked over to James's cot. His arm was out of the sling and was sleeping, his mouth slightly open.

I rolled my eyes. "James. Hey, wake up," I called. I moved the plate near his face, forcing him to smell the aroma. "Jaaaaames. Sweet Merlin, you'd think you were in a coma. WAKE UP!"

He blinked groggily, looking around. "Hmm?"

"Merlin. Welcome back to reality, mate."

I perched myself on the end of the cot, putting down the textbooks and holding out the plate. It was generously filled with chicken and potatoes. James's eyes widened slightly at the food.

He sat up slowly. "What is that, lunch?" James asked. Apparently, he hadn't really been keeping track of the time since he got to the Hospital Wing.

I snorted. "No, mate," I told him, handing over the plate. "Dinner. You've been sleeping the _entire _day."

He looked very confused for a moment, probably trying to remember the last time he was awake. He shook his head at himself and took the food. "Thanks," he said. "Merlin, maybe it's the potions Madame Burkes been giving me.

I shrugged. "Maybe," I humored him. "Morgan said that Abigail's been in to see you today, and you were sleeping both times."

He dropped a piece of chicken. "Abigail's been here?"

I gave him a look. "Twice, apparently," I said.

He zoned out a little, lost in his thoughts. I repressed a sigh. _Those two just need to get together already,_ I thought. They'd been beating around the bush for so long.

I cleared my throat, bringing him back to reality. "Anyway, I've brought you you're assignments from classes today," I told him.

He made a face, chewing slowly. "How responsible of you, Frederick," he teased. "I think Morgan's starting to rub off on you."

"Ha ha," I deadpanned. "That's the last time I try to do something nice for you." I sighed dramatically. "_So _ungrateful."

He moved to throw a piece of chicken at me.

"Don't even think about it, Mr. Potter," Madame Burke called from her office. James lowered his arm in defeat.

My eyes widened. She couldn't even see us. "How did she do that?" I muttered under my breath.

He shook his head. "Don't ask me," he mumbled back. "I tried to sneak to the kitchens for breakfast and she locked the doors before I even saw her. She knows _everything_."

"And I also know that visiting hours are over," Madame Burke said, emerging from her office. The woman had a knowing smirk on her face.

I argued with her for a few minutes, begging to stay a little while longer, but eventually Madame Burke won. I said goodbye to James and made my way back to the Gryffindor common room.

Just as I arrived to the portrait, it swung open and Abigail walked out.

"Hey, King," I greeted her.

"Hey!" she said, looking glad to see me. "I was just talking to Morgan – she said you went to see James."

"I did."

Her eyes lit up. "So he's awake?"

"Yeah," I started. "But visiting hours just ended."

She let out a groan. "Merlin, its only eight o' clock! You'd think Madame Burke was a prison guard or something." She ran a hand over her face, looking dejected. "If I'd have known it would be so hard to see James, I would have just snuck in or something," she said sarcastically.

And suddenly, a thought occurred to me.

I smiled mischievously. "I think I may be able to help."

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"So let me get this straight," Dom said, giving me a look that clearly questioned my sanity. "You're going to break into the Hospital Wing."

It was about ten o' clock at night and Dom, Morgan, and Molly were all sitting on my bed. I had explained the plan to them, pacing the room. After I finished, they'd just stared at me until Dom spoke.

I shrugged casually. "Yeah," I said. "I mean, I think we all can agree that I'm pretty much the worst behaved Head Girl in Hogwarts history, so why not add it to the list?"

"And you're desperate to see James," Molly added, smirking.

"Yeah, well. That, too."

Morgan glanced at me. "I don't know, Abigail," she said, sounding worried. "Is this such a good idea?"

"It can't be that good," Dom mumbled. "_Fred _came up with it." Molly laughed.

Morgan shrugged and nodded in resignation. "Good point," she said.

I ignored them. "Look, it'll be fine," I reassured her. "I'm just going to wait until midnight so Madame Burke is asleep, find James's map, and you know… make sure that I don't get caught."

"Yup," Molly said. "Fred _definitely_ came up with it."

After a while, the girls wished me luck and headed back to their dorm before curfew. I thanked them nonchalantly, but my heart was racing. I knew I shouldn't be doing something this crazy… but let's be honest. I was completely bonkers.

I paced my room for the next two hours, busying myself with little tasks the calm me down. At midnight, I practically ran into James's room.

The Marauders' Map, as Fred called it, was just where he'd said it would be – tucked behind the headboard of James's bed. It was a perfectly blank piece of parchment, but I knew better.

I cleared my throat. "Erm... I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," I recited, just as Fred told me.

Instantly, it came to life. I'd seen it once before when we snuck out to Hogsmeade, but holding it in my hands was another story. Black dots flooded the page, marking every single person on the Hogwarts grounds. After folding and unfolding the pages, I finally found him.

Heart racing, I made my way out into the hallway. I left my shoes behind, knowing they would probably make more noise. As I crept barefoot down the corridors, I kept an eye on the map, watching out for teachers on patrol or random students out of bed. Even though I was Head Girl, I knew I couldn't be seen. Even Fred couldn't think up an excuse for me being out so late.

When I reached the Hospital Wing, I took a deep breath. Inside my head, I recited _Alohomora_ and heard a click. Before opening the doors, I paused. Fred had said that one of the doors creaked if opened too far. _Crap, _I thought. _Was it the right door or the left door? _

I pushed the right door open.

_Creeeeeeaaaak._

"Shit," I whispered. I hurried into the Hospital Wing and closed the door silently behind me. I froze, listening for any movement. Not hearing any, I moved farther into the room. I pointed my wand at Madame Burke's door.

_Oh, man._ I thought._ What was that spell again? Muffable? Muffitado? Oh!_

"_Muffliato," _I whispered.

I let out a big breath. Finally, the hard part was over. Good thing, too – I was kind of shit at all this sneaking around stuff.

I walked over to the back of the room, looking for James's cot. Considering he was the only overnight patient in the Hospital Wing, he wasn't that hard to find. He was sleeping on his stomach, his arms hidden under the pillow. My stomach got all funny at the sight. Carefully, I sat down on the edge of the bed.

I sat there for a moment, debating on how to wake him up. And then, after thinking it over, I lifted my hand and poked him in the neck. Hard.

He jerked a little, only half-awake. "Merlin, what was that for?" he mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Well, considering the last few times I've seen you you've been asleep, I figured I might as well do something about it," I answered.

His eyes flew open and he turned, seeing me. "Abigail."

I smiled. "In the flesh." He glanced over at Madame Burke's door. "Don't worry," I said. "I did that _Muffliato _charm. Comes in handy, that."

He sat up, sitting criss-cross in front of me, and stared at me for a few seconds. He blinked a few times, apparently making sure that he was totally awake. I placed my wand on the bedside table and pulled myself entirely on the bed, sitting almost directly in front of him.

He glanced down. "You're not wearing shoes."

"I'm not," I agreed.

He paused for a moment, and then let out a bark of laughter. "Why are you here?" he asked, still laughing slightly. "_How _are you here?"

I pulled out the map. "Fred helped me," I told him. "And I used this."

He took the map from me and stared at me. It was an expression I had never seen on his face before. It was a mix between awe and something else.

My face grew warm. "What?" I asked, laughing nervously. "What are you staring at?"

He shook his head, snapping out of it. "Nothing," he said softly, putting the map on the table next to my wand.

"As for why I'm here…" I took a deep breath. "I came to apologize."

He looked confused for a moment. "For what?"

_How could he have forgotten? _"The last time we saw each other I was the biggest bitch on the planet," I reminded him. "I slammed the door in your face…"

"You slammed it on my back, actually," he corrected me.

"So you do remember. Oh, good," I mumbled. "Look, when I came back from Hogsmeade acting all bonkers… That had nothing to do with you. I saw my uncle in Hogsmeade and we got in this huge fight… Anyway, I took it out on you. And then you got hurt in the match and I was worried that it had something to do with me. I mean, not in a selfish, self-involved way. I mean…" I groaned. This wasn't exactly going the way I'd planned. "Okay, what I'm really trying to say is that I'm sorry. I'm really, _really _sorry. For everything."

I watched his face for his reaction. He didn't say anything for a few moments. And then suddenly, "Are you alright?"

I shot him a look. "Look, I know that I don't apologize all that often but I wouldn't exactly question my sanity- "

"No, no," he interrupted. "I mean, with what happened with your uncle."

"Wait," I said, confused. "So you're not mad at me at all?"

He leaned a little closer to me. "No, of course not. I mean, it definitely makes more sense now," he said, laughing a little. "Though, by now I should probably be used to you acting kind of mental."

My eyes widened and I shoved him in the shoulder, smiling. "You _prat._"

But honestly, I wasn't bothered at all. Because I had James back.

Laughing, James scooted over on one side of the cot, motioning for me to sit next to him. We sat like that for a while, a few inches in between us, talking only every once in a while. Occasionally he would ask about random things or make a joke. But mostly, we just sat in silence. With anyone else, it might have been weird or uncomfortable, but with James it was perfect.

After a while, without saying a word, James hesitantly put his arm around my shoulders. I instantly moved closer to him, putting my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice muffled slightly by his shoulder.

"Yeah?" he responded quietly. Peeking through my eyelids, I saw that he had closed his eyes too.

"Don't ever fall off a broomstick from a hundred feet again. Or I'll kill you."

He laughed quietly. "Okay."

We didn't say anything more for the rest of the night.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

My eyes snapped open to blinding sunlight streaming in through the Hospital Wing windows. Almost instantly, I sat up, realizing something was missing. Abigail was gone. _Did she leave before Madame Burke got up or…?_

I heard the sound of glass bottles clinking together and glanced across the Wing. Madame Burke was busying herself at the medicine table.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," she said without turning around.

"Erm…good morning, Madame Burke," I said distractedly. I glanced at the bedside table. Abigail's wand was gone, as well as the map.

Madame Burke walked up, handing me a small cup of blue liquid. "Don't worry, dearie. Miss King left well before she had the chance to run into me."

I choked on the medicine. After coughing for a few minutes, I said, "Then how…?"

"You forget, Mr. Potter," she said, giving my cheek a light slap. "I know _everything._"

* * *

**A/N: **So, how was that? This is actually one of my favorite chapters for some reason. It all seems very James Bond, I think. I just realized its also a pretty long chapter, so that's good! AND ABIGAIL'S IN LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE. Just sayin'.

Haha, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this long awaited chapter! Thank you all for being patient with me! Also on a side note - we recently hit 150 reviews! You guys are ridiculously amazing.

See you next week!


	23. Careful

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Careful" belongs to the Paramore.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Careful**

"_I had it all, but not what I wanted 'cause hope, for me, was a place uncharted and overgrown."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

When I slipped back into my dorm room early that morning, I almost had a heart attack. Molly and Dom were spread out on my bed, sleeping, while Morgan snored softly in a chair by the desk. I dropped James's map on the desk and put a hand to my chest, willing my racing heart to calm down.

"Guys!" I hissed. They all started, slowly getting up and looking around. Morgan actually fell out of the chair. I rolled my eyes at them.

"Mmm? Oh, hey Abigail," Dom said sleepily. Molly raised her hand in a half-hearted wave.

"'_Oh, hey Abigail?'" _I said, incredulously. "What are you guys _doing _here?" I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. "At _seven _in the morning?"

Morgan yawned. "We wanted to see how it went," she explained. "With James."

"And it couldn't wait until breakfast?" I asked. "You guys almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh, calm down, drama queen," Molly chided me. She gave me a sly look. "So…what happened?"

I sighed and sat on top of my desk, seeing as there was no other space to sit in the room. Awkwardly, I balanced my feet on the chair Molly was sitting in. "Well…nothing really," I told her lamely. "We just fell asleep."

Dom sat up quickly on the bed. "Abigail Evelyn King," she scolded. "Are you seriously telling me that you spent the whole night in bed, with a _boy_…and absolutely nothing happened?"

I blinked. "Erm…yes?"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," she mumbled weakly.

Morgan picked up a book off my floor and threw it at her. Spinning to face me, she said, "Ignore her. But…I mean, _something _must have happened."

They all looked at me expectantly. "Oh, what do you know?" I exclaimed, glancing down at my watch. "If we don't leave soon, we'll miss breakfast."

Molly reached down to the floor beside my bed and tossed me a container filled with muffins from the kitchens. "Oh, don't even try," she responded with a smirk. "We planned ahead."

_Oh, they're good, _I thought. They'd even thought ahead to my unconditional love of breakfast. _Were those cinnamon?_ I bit into one and moaned in delight. _Cinnamon…_

Morgan cleared her throat. "Abigail, focus," she said, snapping a finger in front of my face. "You have to tell us a little, at least."

I sighed. "Okay. Well, when I got to the Hospital Wing, he was sleeping…"

I told them all about how I'd apologized to James for our fight, how he'd forgiven me in seconds, realizing that I wasn't even mad at him. I had been mad at Uncle Matt, not James. Telling them about it, I felt bad all over again. I had stupidly taken out my anger on James.

But, for some reason, he forgave me. I mean, he didn't even ask questions. He just forgave me. He told me it was alright and that was that. We didn't have to say anything more, after that. He put his arm around me and we didn't have to say a word. Telling my friends about it, it sounded kind of strange, simple. And they were right – nothing _had _happened. But for some reason, it didn't really feel that way.

"And then what happened?" Dom said eagerly.

I shrugged. "And then we fell asleep."

Simultaneously, their faces fell. I almost laughed, but decided against it.

"So…" Molly said slowly. "You didn't tell him that you lo-"

"No," I interrupted her. I looked down, avoiding their gazes. "It's for the best."

Morgan looked alarmed. "Abigail –"

I glanced down at my watch. "You know, I should really start getting ready for the day. At this point, I'll have to skip a shower," I told them, realizing how late it was getting.

I walked out of my room and into the common room, with the girls following behind me. Right before we reached the door, Dom slipped her hand into mine. "Are you sure you're okay, Abigail?" she asked me softly. They all looked kind of concerned.

I smiled at my friends, loving them more than ever. "I'm perfectly fine, guys," I assured them. "I'll see you in Herbology, yeah?"

They all agreed, still looking slightly worried, but left anyway. Finally alone, I went back to my room and softly shut the door. Feeling sort of dazed, I sat down on my bed and bit my lip.

I didn't want them thinking I was being cold, desperately trying to drop the subject. It's not that I didn't _want _to talk about it. I just didn't know _how. _It was one of those irritating moments – which, I assure you, only happened once in a blue moon – that I had absolutely no idea how to say something.

Obviously, I've never had a problem with saying exactly how I feel, when I feel it. That has always been the way I worked, facing a problem head on.

But with this…I was completely and utterly clueless. To be honest, skirting around the issue like a coward seemed like a decent choice. As much as I had tried to deny it, I loved James. I just had no idea what to do about it.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

As soon as Madame Burke finished my final check up and had made her last sarcastic comment about my previous night's sleeping arrangements, I practically flew out of the Hospital Wing. I wouldn't have time for breakfast, but I'd have just enough time to shower before going to Herbology.

As I walked up to the Heads' dorms, I passed students heading to breakfast. As my stomach growled in jealousy, I spotted Fred on a stairway below me.

"Hey mate!" he called, waving to me with a suspicious smirk on his face. Several people looked around, wondering if it were one of them Fred was regarding. Seeing this, he clarified. "Just get back from the Hospital Wing, James?"

The people around me, realizing they were not the ones being spoken to, quickly lost interest. "Yeah," I called down to him. "About ten minutes ago."

Fred's staircase shifted courses and he began to move away from me. Seeing it was his last opportunity to say something, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Bet you slept well last night, Potter!"

I felt my ears burn and several people looked over at me, probably wondering why Fred would yell something so random to me. I coughed awkwardly and hurried to the top of the staircase.

But honestly, he was right. I don't think I had ever slept that well in my life. There was something so normal about just being there with Abigail. Talking about serious things, making fun of each other, or not saying anything.

When I reached the dorms, I noticed a light under Abigail's door. For about five seconds, I thought about knocking, saying something to her. I stood in the middle of the common room and stupidly stared at her door for a few moments.

But I'm a coward so I took a shower instead. After my shower, I slipped my jeans back on and stood in front of the mirror. Despite getting a really good sleep the night before, I had slightly dark circles under my eyes and there were still a few bruises on my chest from the fall. I shrugged. Overall, I didn't look like I had fallen a hundred feet. So that was good.

Suddenly, the bathroom door behind me burst open. I turned around quickly, almost dropping a can of shaving cream in surprise.

Abigail stood there, frozen, for about a second before turning red and slapping both hands over her eyes. "Oh my God," she gasped. "I was just…I didn't even… Oh, shit, I'm sorry."

I snorted and walked over to her. "Abigail," I said, reaching up to remove her hands from her face. "It's fine. It's not like I'm naked or anything."

She allowed me to move her hands, her arms slowly returning to her sides. She eyed my chest for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "If you insist," she mumbled.

I coughed slightly and slipped my uniform shirt on.

We stood there awkwardly for a moment, Abigail rocking back and forth on her heels. She cleared her throat. "Do you mind if I…erm," she gestured to the mirror.

"Only if you don't mind sharing," I responded. I still had to shave, after all.

She smiled, leaning in close to the mirror. Taking her right hand, she swept all of her hair over one shoulder and started braiding it from the top of her head. I watched her, transfixed as she twisted and plaited the hair across her head and down her chest.

"When did you even get back?" she asked distractedly, still focusing on her hair. I snapped out of it, realizing I had been staring at her hands for a few minutes, my razor frozen halfway to my face. "I didn't hear you get in."

"Just a little while ago," I said. "Your door was closed."

"Oh, that makes – " She stopped suddenly. In the mirror, her eyes flickered to the calendar she kept on the back of the bathroom door. "Wait a second," she said, more to herself than to me. "Is today the twenty-second?"

I rinsed off my face and turned to face her, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yeah, I think so. Why?"

She frowned. "Tomorrow's my uncle's birthday."

I thought back to the night before. Abigail had said that she had gotten into a fight with her uncle the day before I got hurt. "Are you two still…?"

She glanced at me sadly. "We haven't spoken yet," she told me. She was quiet for a few minutes, pushing some pins into her hair absentmindedly. She sighed, shaking her head at herself. "I guess we should probably get to class," she said, seeming to push all her other thoughts out of her mind.

"Yeah, let's go."

As we walked to Herbology, our hands awkwardly brushed a couple times. The first time this happened, her face reddened, but she didn't turn to look at me. I almost laughed but kept it to myself. In my mind, I imagined reaching over and putting her hand in mine. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

To be honest, the way I acted with Abigail – the friendship that we had – meant too much to me to mess it all up by doing something she might not want. I had almost had a panic attack in the Hospital Wing the night before, building up the courage to even touch her. I didn't want to freak her out. So instead of slipping my hand into hers like I desperately wanted to, I slipped my hands into my pockets.

She looked at me then, a determined look on her face. Right before we entered the classroom doors, she turned to face me.

"I want to tell you something," she declared. Behind her, a couple students slipped into the greenhouse.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ignore the fact that my heart had started beating faster at her words. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling. She took a deep breath. "Last night – "

"Abigail, I need to speak with you for a moment."

I almost cursed aloud. In my undivided attention to Abigail, I hadn't noticed Neville walk up behind her. He had the worst bloody timing in the entire world.

She spun around, frustrated. "Is there _any _chance," she pleaded, trying to control the annoyance in her voice, "that this could wait, like, five minutes?"

Our professor shook his head seriously. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out an envelope. "I got this today and I thought you should see it," he explained, his voice grave. Abigail paled slightly at his words. Noticing her reaction, he gave her a gentle smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Just read through it and see me after class, yeah?"

She took it from him, silently nodding. As he walked away, she pulled out the letter. "_Letters,_" she mumbled weakly in disgust. "Why does it always have to be _letters?"_

I could tell that she was upset. She put on a stoic, unemotional face as she scanned the letter, as if the contents didn't bother her in the slightest. But I knew better. I noticed the way she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from frowning, the way her hands were slightly shaking as she clenched the paper a little too hard.

Her eyes shot up to meet mine and she attempted a smile, as if trying to convey that everything was perfectly fine. But her smile, which ended up looking more like a grimace, didn't fool me. I'd known her long enough that I could read her like a book. And right now, her pages were filled with sad words and secrets.

My brow furrowed. "Is everything alright?" I asked her. A thought suddenly occurred to me. "It's not from your –"

"No, it's not from my dad," she said. "I'm fine, don't worry about it. It's just something from my uncle." She glanced into the greenhouse, hearing Neville begin his lesson. "We should probably go inside."

Without saying anything more, she walked into the classroom and sat down at a table.

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I don't think I registered a word of the lesson Neville was giving. I tapped my feet impatiently under the table, the letter from my uncle burning a hole in my pocket. Throughout the whole class, I could feel James shooting me worried glances. I couldn't blame him though – I was acting like a lunatic.

The second that Neville dismissed the class, I shot out of my seat, making a beeline for his desk.

"Abigail?" I heard behind me. Molly, Morgan, Dom and James were waiting in the doorway of the greenhouse. "Do you want us to wait?" Molly asked me.

I shook my head. "No, that's okay," I told her. "I'll see you guys later."

As they turned to leave, James hesitated slightly. I smiled at him, trying to say that I was fine, he could go. He nodded, frowning, and walked away. I felt a pang in my stomach, feeling as though I was keeping _another _thing from James. And that was the last thing I wanted to do.

I had almost told him before class. Told him how I felt. I've no idea why I suddenly had the courage to do it, but I almost did. At the time, it seemed so effortless. But then Neville had to barge up and ruin it. I scoffed, remembering this. _Teachers._

Neville was shuffling papers on his desk when I stopped in front of him.

"I don't understand," I said, without prelude. "The letter's addressed to you, not me."

He nodded. "But I thought you should read what was inside," he explained. "The two of you are acting like children, avoiding speaking like this."

I rolled my eyes. "As much as it pains me to say this, I am still practically a child so I think it's really his fault. Probably."

He made a face. "You realize you're only further proving my point," he retorted.

I sat down in the chair in front of his desk, not saying anything for a few moments. "He has to stay in America?" I whispered, the reality of this sinking in.

"He's not doing it by choice, you know," he reminded me. "It's a great opportunity for his career. Plus, he will be coming home in a few months to get everything in order."

"But what does that mean for me?" I asked desperately.

He sighed. "You read the letter, Abigail. He said that if you can find work after graduation, you can stay here. No problems."

"Unless, of course, I can't find work, then I'd have to move to America," I shot back. "Merlin, _America? _What am I supposed to do in America?" I pressed my hands into my eyes, overwhelmed with this.

I could tell by the glint in his eyes that Neville was about to give me valuable mentor and life choice advice. I smiled slightly, noticing even then how he had a plan for everything.

"Here's what you're going to do," he said. He grabbed a notepad from the corner of the desk and jotted down a few words. He quickly tore it off the pad and handed it to me. "Bring this to the Headmistress and ask her about it. Tell her that I sent you."

I gave him a look, questioning his dramatics. Looking down, I saw three words.

_Ministry Training Academy_

* * *

Determined to find out what exactly Neville was being so mysterious about, I took time out of my next free period to go see Professor McGonagall. I hoped with all of my heart that she had some good news. Maybe this Ministry Training Academy could allow me to stay here in England…

Just as I rounded the corner by the Headmistress's office, I ran into someone. Hard.

"_Oof!_" the body said. Struggling to gain my balance, I looked up to see who I'd assaulted.

"James!" I exclaimed, embarrassed. God, first I walk in on him in the bathroom and now this? Merlin.

He smiled, rubbing the top of his torso where I had practically plowed through him. "Hey," he greeted me. "You seem like you're on a mission or something."

I stopped focusing on his chest and nodded. "Something like that. Neville wants me to meet with McGonagall about something."

He ran a hand through his hair, considering this. "Is this about that letter you got earlier today?" he asked.

"I think so."

He looked at me then, frown lines forming around his brown eyes, looking concerned. "Is there…Has something happened?" he asked, laughing nervously. "I'm starting to get a little worried."

I felt my whole body warm in backwards happiness and I let out a shaky breath. I shouldn't have felt happy. For all I knew, things could seriously change for me post-school if I didn't work something out. I should have been worried and terrified about the horrifying prospect that was my future. But I couldn't be. Because I wasn't going to let anything happen.

There was no way in hell I was going to leave this boy behind.

Hesitantly, I reached forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. As I pressed my face into his chest, I felt his arms come around my shoulders. We stood that way for a few seconds before I pulled away, dropping my arms to my sides.

"Everything's perfectly fine," I told him in my most convincing voice. "Don't worry."

He shook his head, as if he were refusing. "I always worry about you," he whispered.

Though I had let go of him, we were still standing very close to each other. When he looked down at me, frowning, I could feel his breath on my face. I could see the green speckles in his brown eyes. Standing in the middle of a first floor corridor, I could almost feel the atmosphere change. This was the closest I had been to James since the Hospital Wing and suddenly, I thought of cinnamon gum.

"James –" I started, but was instantly silenced when he lifted a hand to my cheek. He lightly traced my cheekbone with his fingertips, and then slid his hand right under my ear. Titling my face towards his, he leaned in. Hear pounding, I closed my eyes.

"_Ahem." _

My eyes snapped open and I looked around for the source of the interruption. Standing down the corridor at the entrance of her office stood McGonagall. She raised an eyebrow.

_Did she and Neville have some agreement to ruin pivotal moments in my life? _I thought to myself. _Merlin._

In front of me, James lamely dropped his hand from my face and stepped away. Automatically, I felt colder without him standing in front of me. I might have been embarrassed at the interruption if I wasn't so frustrated.

"Headmistress," James greeted civilly, though I swore I could almost hear him cursing her out in his head.

She nodded at him in that ever calculating, McGonagall way that she had about her, and looked to me. "I believe that you were on your way to see me, Miss King," she stated. "Professor Longbottom mentioned you might be stopping by."

With this, she turned towards her office and started climbing the stairs around the gargoyle. Taking the hint, I moved to follow her.

"I'll see you later, yeah?" I said to James.

He glanced down at me, giving me that knee-weakening look I secretly loved. "Of course," he said, his voice low.

I gave him an awkward little wave and then ran to catch up with McGonagall. When I reached the top of the small flight of stairs, she was already seated at her desk. I approached her, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. As I sat down, I realized how fast my heart was racing. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

"We haven't spoken about your Head Girl duties in a while," Professor McGonagall started. "But it seems that all of your responsibilities are going well."

"They are," I responded politely.

She raised an eyebrow. "And you and Mr. Potter seemed to have worked out your… issues."

I coughed. "Erm…Professor Longbottom wanted me to ask you about the Ministry Training Academy," I quickly said.

"Ah, yes, the Ministry Training Academy. Well, first things first – it's not exactly an academy; it's more of a program," she explained. "The Academy is set up for young witches and wizards who have not yet decided which branch of Ministry they would like to pursue."

To be honest, I had never really considered what I wanted to do after I graduated. All of my friends seemed to have their whole lives planned out, but I was still figuring everything out. When I was younger, I had always dreamed of starting business of some sort. Maybe own a shop, a restaurant, something. I'd always wanted something that was completely _mine._ Something I had worked hard to create and run, all of my own doing.

But working for the Ministry was a great opportunity. I mean, I could probably do great things, right? Plus, if this Academy let me stay in England, it was better than anything else I had going for me.

"So…it's a job where I can figure out what I want to be when I grow up?" I joked.

She cracked one of her rare smiles. "Essentially, yes. However, there's a catch."

"I knew it," I grumbled.

She gave me a look that was almost kind. "Professor Longbottom has vaguely explained your recent trouble with your uncle and the issue of your living situation after you graduate," she said gently. "The Academy is a very prestigious opportunity for students here, and all involvement in the program is based on applications – you either get accepted or rejected."

I paused for a moment, thinking this over. "So, what is the catch exactly?"

"The Ministry only accepts students who have scored Exceeds Expectations on at least five N.E.W.T.s."

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. "But…but those are the same requirements for Aurors!" I exclaimed. "It's nearly impossible!"

She shrugged. "I believe you're capable of receiving those grades."

"You _do_?" I couldn't keep the surprise out of my voice. I'd always produced average grades – not failing, exactly, but I was never first in the class.

"You are very intelligent, Miss King," she complimented me. "You just have to work extremely hard. To get into the Academy, you have to be the best."

I nodded, taking in all of this information. This was my only chance. I had no other plan to stay here in England and this Academy could be absolutely brilliant. Maybe it was not exactly what I had dreamed about when I was little, but it was enough.

I couldn't leave England. There was no way I could ever leave all my friends behind. I couldn't leave James.

So I would just have to work harder. N.E.W.T.s were coming up in just a few short months. I would have to study until all of my textbooks were practically memorized.

I took a deep breath. "I'll do whatever it takes."

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I think it was equal parts fluff and plot. Anyway, we're in the home stretch now - the story is going to be 28 chapters!

Well, I'm going to be late for school, so I should probably go. Don't forget to review! See you kiddies next week.


	24. Sigh No More

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Sigh No More" belongs to the glorious band Mumford & Sons.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Sigh No More**

"_Love, it will not betray you, dismay or enslave you. It will set you free. Be more like the man you were made to be."_

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

Before any of us realized it, winter turned into spring. And along with the rain and rising temperatures came the quickly approaching and frightening reality of NEWTs.

It was the time of year when the rest of the school was constantly thanking Merlin that they weren't seventh years, preparing for the dreaded exams. Every single night felt like a mountain of homework, a pile of assignments and essays that I would hardly remember writing the next morning. I would go whole weeks without seeing some of my friends. Fred and Ryan had started getting their acts together school-wise, and Mitch was so stressed out that he thought his hair was starting to gray. And even though I lived with her, sometimes I would go days without talking to Abigail.

It wasn't as if we were arguing or avoiding each other at all, we were just too busy. She seemed to be taking on more work than ever. Every time I saw her, her nose would be in a textbook, black ink smudges all over her hands from writing. She would act as though she was perfectly fine but the dark circles under her eyes showed how overtired she really was. More than anything, I wanted to spend time with her, just hanging around or talking like we used to.

To be honest, my days sort of felt empty without her. The day that all of the NEWTs craziness started – the day that she got that mysterious letter from her uncle – I had almost kissed her. All of my reservations about telling her how I felt just disappeared and I just went for it.

But by the time she came back from McGonagall's office, she had this new determination for her studies. It came out of nowhere, but soon we were all sucked into the NEWTs chaos and I didn't have time to dwell on it. Soon, everything became a blur of schoolwork.

One Saturday night, the whole lot of us backed away from the studying for a few hours to congregate in the Heads' dorm. We were all spread out around the room, passing around butterbeers.

Fred, sitting with Morgan by the fireplace, let out a groan of frustration. "Why the hell do we have to take NEWTs anyway?" he ranted. "I mean, even if I'm incredibly smart, I could be a bad test taker and it wouldn't mean anything to the Ministry."

"I don't know how I'm going to get at least an E on all my exams," I mumbled.

Molly spun around on the floor to face me. "So you're going for it, then? You're going to try to be an Auror?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I hope so," I said modestly. "And Fred, too. Right, mate?"

When I looked over to Fred, I noticed that Morgan was frowning slightly. Fred squeezed her hand distractedly and said, "Merlin willing," he answered with a small smile. We were all quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. "You know, it's kind of funny though…" he trailed off.

"What's funny?" Abigail asked.

He looked around the room at all of us. "It's just that…we've all been friends for a long time now and I don't know what all of you want to do when we finish school," Fred said.

We considered this. On the sofa across from me, Abigail was staring off into space, her chin resting in her hand. For the few weeks, something had been off with her, and Fred's statement seemed to bring her thoughts somewhere else.

Molly sat up straighter. "I think…" she started. "I think I want to go into Law. I think it could be pretty good for me, considering how much I argue with people in general."

"That's for sure," Dom teased. "Well, we all know how crazy I am about Quidditch. I'd like to write for Quidditch section of the Prophet."

Mitch nodded enthusiastically. "I want to write for the Prophet, too," he told us. "But probably not for Quidditch – more like investigative journalism." He looked around, seeing who hadn't spoken yet. "What about you, Morgan?"

Her face reddened. "You guys might laugh," she said, "but I'd really like to teach. I can't imagine not being in Hogwarts after this year ends." She sighed and Fred put his arm around her shoulders. "I might have to wait a few years for a spot to open up though," she explained.

"Well I think that's brilliant, Morgan," Ryan said. "No one would laugh at something you really want to do. Especially me because I'm going to be a Healer." He gave a smirk and saluted. "Nurse Ryan at your service."

We all laughed as he pretended to take Dom's vitals. Passing around more butterbeers, I was struck by how strange this felt – talking about our futures and what we were going to do after we left school. It was so…grown up. It made everything seem to real.

Suddenly, I remembered that Abigail hadn't said what she wanted to do. Actually, she hadn't breathed a word in ten minutes. She was looking down, peeling at the label off of her butterbeer bottle.

Fred met my eyes across the room, noticing where I had been looking. "What about you, Abigail?" he asked gently. She looked startled, as if she'd forgotten where she was. "You haven't said what job you want."

"Oh. Right," she said, sitting up a little straighter on the sofa. "Well, erm…I suppose it's a little complicated."

"What do you mean?" I asked her, furrowing my brows. She glanced at me for a second before quickly averting her eyes. I frowned.

"It's just that… Well, my uncle's written me," she explained. "It seems that he's going to have to relocate. To America. Like…permanently."

Everyone was paying attention now. "_What?" _Dom exclaimed, putting her butterbeer on the table next to her.

I felt my heart start to race, and not in the pleasant way. "Well, that doesn't matter, right?" I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "You can still live in England, get a job here?"

"I'm going to try," she said, trying to sound optimistic. "McGonagall has set me up with this Ministry Training Academy thing. It's this program that exposes you to all different Ministry careers so you can chose which one you'd like to have as a job."

"That's good, right?" Mitch asked.

"Yeah," Morgan said. "It sounds like a solid career move."

Abigail bit the inside of her cheek. "I need at least 5 E's to get accepted," she admitted.

"Whoa," Ryan muttered. He was right – 5 E's is what I needed to become an Auror and it was really hard. I'd always gotten good grades, but I knew that Abigail sometimes had a hard time taking tests.

Molly scooted in front of her on the floor. "But…what if you don't get accepted?" Molly asked cautiously.

Abigail pulled a frantic hand through her hair, her eyes closing. "Guys, this Academy thing is the only shot I have – I can't afford to live in England by myself. It's too expensive."

I felt my stomach drop. "What are you saying?" I asked, dreading the answer.

She looked at me then, her face an open book of worries and fears. And before she even said the words, I knew what her answer would be. "I'd have to go to America."

Everyone was silent. I could feel my stomach clenching and unclenching as I broke eye contact with Abigail, staring down at my feet. I tried to keep my face as stoic as possible.

Morgan was shaking her head slowly, as if what she was hearing was her imagination. "That's…" she trailed off.

"Not going to happen," Mitch finished. With a smile, he put a friendly hand on her shoulder. "You're going to get those grades and you'll stay here with us in England. I just know it."

Abigail smiled in thanks, giving him a quick hug. Everyone was throwing out reassurances, telling her there was no way that she would ever leave them.

But…what if she did have to leave? What if, for some reason, she didn't get those E's and she had to move to America. Would I ever see her again?

Just as the walls started to close in, I stood up abruptly, causing everyone to look over in alarm.

"James?" Abigail asked, looking worried.

I dragged a hand through my hair. "I just…" I started, meeting her eyes. Her tired eyes. It was all starting to make sense now – why she was working so hard, why it seemed like she wasn't sleeping. She must've been so worried about this Academy thing that she was pushing herself too hard.

"I just…Erm, I realized that I have to work on this essay that I have," I lied.

She frowned. "But its Saturday."

"Yeah, well it's always good to get ahead," I responded, making my way towards the door. Back by the couches, Fred was shaking his head at me. I ignored him.

Abigail rushed after me, grabbing my arm just before I pulled open the door. "What's going on?" she whispered, searching my eyes. I broke eye contact, knowing she would be able to tell that I was upset. "You're acting really strange."

I shook my head at myself. _Merlin, what was I doing? _"I'll see you later, Abigail," I told her.

She dropped her hand from my arm automatically. With a glance to her face, I could tell she was hurt. But I left anyway, knowing I had to get out of there before I did or said something worse.

* * *

Before I realized what I was doing, my feet had carried me to the library. I had no work with me, nothing to keep me busy or at least looking productive, but I walked to the tables anyway. Seeing an empty one, I slid into a chair and rested my head on the table.

"So, what did you do this time?"

My head shot up. Lily. She was sitting across from me.

I rolled my eyes. "Merlin, how do you _do _that?" I practically yelled. The librarian sent me a warning '_shhhhh_.' I rolled my eyes at her and, quietly, asked, "And what makes you think I did anything?"

My sister scoffed, flipping through her textbook as if the whole thing bored her. "First of all, you came to the library. You only come here when you have nothing better to do or something is wrong," she told me. "Plus, your hair is all messed up like you've been pulling it out or something. I hate to say it, brother, but you're an open book."

Frowning, I flattened down my hair. "Great," I grumbled. "Mental_ and _predictable."

Lily dog-eared one of the pages and looked up at me. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" she said in her best therapist voice.

I pressed my palms into my eyes. Merlin, what _wasn't _wrong? "Its Abigail," I told her. "She…she might have to move. To America."

I paused, waiting for Lily's reaction. She and Abigail were pretty good friends and I knew it would probably be hard for her.

She flipped a page and shrugged. "So?"

My eyes widened incredulously. "_What do you mean so?_" I hissed at her. I couldn't believe my ears. "I just told you Abigail might have to leave England and you say _so?_ What the hell is wrong with you?"

At a table to my right, a girl sitting there glared at me. "_Shhhhh."_

I ignored her.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Would you stop being so dramatic?" she said. "I heard you perfectly fine the first time. I just don't get what the big deal is."

I leaned in closer to her, trying to suppress my anger. "Lily," I ground out. "She's not going on holiday. She would be _moving. _She has to get into some Ministry program or else she can't afford to live here anymore. If she doesn't pass five exams with E's, she's gone. She'll be gone for good," I told her, trying to ignore the fact that my hands were shaking like mad. I raked my hands through my hair again, knowing full well that it was probably starting to fall out.

Lily actually had the nerve to examine her nails. "I mean, I know you fancy her and everything, but it will probably pass," she said nonchalantly. "You could write her some letters or something. Girls like that stuff." Suddenly, she sighed dreamily. "Thomas Blake said he'll write me letters over summer holiday, isn't that great? I think he might ask me to the next Hogsmeade trip."

I was going to wring her neck.

"We probably would never see her again," I said, ignoring her last few statements completely. "Holy shit…I'll never see her again. She's going to go off to America and find some guy and forget all about me."

"_Quiet_, Mr. Potter," the librarian hissed.

I barely heard her.

Lily was paying attention now. She raised an eyebrow at me. "James."

I shook my head. "No. I can't just let this happen," I told her. "She can't leave. I don't want her to leave."

The corner of Lily's mouth had turned up in a mischievous smile. "Because?" she prompted.

"Because I…"

And that's when it hit me. It was something I'd known for a while, but I'd never gotten the courage to say it. It was the reason I was acting so mental. _She _was the reason I was acting so mental. She was the reason I did most things these days. It was like every single decision I made, I made with her in mind. I wanted to be with her always and I couldn't do that if she went to America. When I pictured my future, she was there. She _was _my future.

I sat up straight in my chair. "Because I'm in love with her."

Lily slammed both of her hands down on the table. "Finally!" she exclaimed. "I don't think I could have acted like a bitch for another second!"

"_Shhhhhhhh!"_ the people around us hissed.

Lily winced. "Sorry," she whispered sheepishly.

But I was still caught up in her last statement. "Wait…" I said slowly. "You mean…"

"James, there's no way in hell I would seriously be that nonchalant about one of my closest friends leaving the country. That was all an act," she said with a 'duh' tone. Quickly she added, "Though all that stuff about Thomas Blake is true. He's totally into me."

"Lily, focus for a second."

"Oh, right," she said, snapping out of it. "James, you can't let her leave."

Even in my flustered state, I rolled my eyes at her. "Lily, it's Abigail," I deadpanned. "You seriously think I could stop her from doing something she's set her mind to?"

She bit her lip, thinking about this. "Well…maybe you can't stop her," she decided. "But you can fight for her."

I furrowed my brows. "What do you mean?"

My sister leaned in closer to me, obviously getting really excited. "You said that she has to pass five exams with Exceeds Expectations, right? Or else she has to leave?"

"Well, yeah. But what could I do to help her?"

She sat back in her chair, satisfied with herself. "Look around you, Jamie," she said, smirking, gesturing to the library around us. "Books are some of the best weapons in the world."

* * *

About an hour later, I was lugging a huge box all the way back to the Heads dorms. I had to hand it to Lily – this was one of her best ideas yet. I figured if nothing else, I could at least help Abigail's chance of staying in England to the best of my ability.

When I entered our common room, I noticed that all of my friends had left. Only Abigail had stayed behind. She hadn't noticed that I was there yet.

Readjusting the box in my hands, I just looked at her for a few moments. She was sitting criss-cross on one of the couches, a pad of paper and a textbook in her lap. As she looked down at the words, a pair of reading glasses was sliding down her nose, the likes of which I had only seen her wear a few times all year. Abigail's red hair was pulled up in a messy knot on the top of her head, some loose tendrils pushed back behind her ears. She had changed her clothes since that morning, and she was now wearing a big gray sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants. It was almost as if she had just rolled out of bed.

I thought she looked beautiful.

I cleared my throat and walked further into the room. Abigail raised her eyes to meet mine. She gave the big box a wary glance, but then looked back down at her schoolwork.

"James," she greeted me stoically, without looking up.

_So that's how it's going to be, _I thought. She was still annoyed at me for walking out earlier that morning. I walked in front of her and dropped the heavy box on the coffee table with a loud _thud. _

She looked up at me, clearly not amused. With another glance at the box, she shut her book and crossed her arms over her chest. She obviously wanted an explanation for the giant box on our coffee table. But she didn't say a word.

I almost groaned out loud. "Come on, Abigail," I prompted her, trying to get her to crack. "I know you want to ask. You're dying to know."

She waited a while, narrowing her eyes at me, before finally answering. "Fine," she mumbled. "What is it?"

"It's a box."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I can see that, James," she retorted. I suppressed a smile, loving how quickly I could wind her up. "What's it for?" she asked, annoyed.

"Well, I'm so glad you asked!" I said brightly, pushing the box towards her. "It's a gift…for you."

Looking skeptical, she stood up next to me and lifted the top off of the box. She peered inside.

A pause. "They're library books," she deadpanned.

I nodded. "But not just any library books," I explained. "They're books that correspond with each of your NEWT exams." I started pulling out the books one by one. "There's _New Theory of Numerology _for Arithmancy, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _for Herbology, _Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_… I mean, that's obviously for Transfiguration – "

"James," she stopped me.

She was smiling, so that was a good sign. "What?"

Shaking her head incredulously, she said, "Why did you do all this? It must have taken you a long time."

I took a deep breath, running a hand through my hair. "To apologize," I said softly. "Look, I was acting like a prick this morning. When you said that you might have to leave…"

She searched my eyes. "Yes?"

I turned so I was directly in front of her, closer than we were standing before. "I…" I trailed off. I shook my head at myself. "You're one of my best friends, Abigail. I don't want you to have to leave England. It's your home and it doesn't seem fair that you would be forced to leave."

She smiled. "So you got me books?"

I felt my ears grow warm. "Well…I thought that I could help you study for your exams. I figured these books could probably help since I have no idea what I'm doing."

She let out a laugh. "James, you really don't have to do this," she said. "I can't imagine you would want to spend your free time helping me study for exams you don't have to take."

I shook my head. "I want to," I told her. "If it means you'll get into that Ministry Program - "

"Academy," she corrected, smiling.

"- Then it's worth it."

She cocked her head to the side mischievously and fell backwards into the couch behind her. I followed suit, accidentally sitting on one of her textbooks.

"So…" she dragged out. Slyly sliding one of the textbooks onto my lap, she said, "How do you feel about Ancient Runes?"

I let out a bark of laughter and opened the book to the first page. "Let's get started, then."

* * *

**A/N:** _I__T'S LOOOOOVE. _So I realized that James hasn't had a lot of POV lately, so I decided to make the whole chapter in his POV! I actually really like this chapter - I think its fun to see Abigail from James's perspective. Hope you all enjoy it.

On a side note, I hope everyone on the US East Coast is doing alright after Hurricane Sandy. My town wasn't hit too bad, and I hope you guys are doing fine as well.

See you crazy kids next week!


	25. Words

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Words" belongs to Skylar Grey.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Words**

"_It's so loud inside my head with words that I should have said."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

"Okay," I said, rubbing my hands together. "Quiz me again."

James, who was sitting upside down on one of the couches in our dorm, rolled his eyes and sighed. "Abigail, we've been studying this every single day for three weeks now and NEWTs are _tomorrow_," he said. "I think you've got it down to a science."

He was right: we _had_ been studying. Ever since he brought me the box of books three weeks ago, I had constantly worked with him, trying to memorize almost every single line in the books. I thought that maybe he would have gotten sick of me by now but for some reason, he was still helping me. Needless to say, I was basically having a panic attack that I would be taking possibly life-changing exams the next morning.

I hauled him upright by the arm, forcing him to sit up in front of me. He made a face, rubbing his arm where I had grabbed him. After a moment, he sat back on the couch, his shoulder pressing up against mine.

I forced myself to repress a stupid, girly sigh. _Focus, Abigail._

"James," I said seriously. "I will not stop working until we take the NEWTs."

He cocked his head to the side. "That gives us…" He glanced at his watch. "About 14 hours."

"There's no time like the present," I retorted.

He tried to keep from smiling, but I could tell that he wasn't actually annoyed with me. With dramatic slowness, he pulled the Arithmancy book from the top of the pile and started skimming the text for questions.

While he looked down at the book, I took the opportunity to study him. There was a time in my life when I looked at the famous James Potter and thought, _what an arrogant prat. _I never gave him the time of day, was persistently rude to him, and even went so far as to avoid him entirely.

_What in the world made everything change?_

Sometimes, I felt that if I went a whole day without seeing him, I would go mad. But it wasn't the stupidly love-struck teenager kind of mad. He literally kept me sane.

Well… as sane as I could get, anyway.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Hmmm," he murmured. "Who first used the system of Arithmancy and for what purpose?"

I pushed my reading glasses up my nose and thought about the question. But before I could open my mouth, James sat up straight and asked another.

"Hold on, I just remembered," he said. "What ever happened between you and your uncle? Did you ever talk to him after that fight you had?"

I scowled. I'd hoped that James would have forgotten about that little fight I'd told him about. But he did have the annoying habit of remembering things I'd said.

"Well," I started. "The ancient Greeks used Arithmancy to predict the results of upcoming battles they had by giving values to the letters in the names of their opponents." I smiled triumphantly at my ability to avoid the question.

"Abigail."

I sighed. "Okay, fine," I mumbled. "I still haven't tried to talk to him. He's sent me a bunch of letters but I haven't responded. Neville said he let my uncle know I knew about America, but that was pretty much the end of it." I paused. "Ask me another question."

He ran his finger down the page. "Whose system of Arithmancy do we base ours off of?" He paused, frowning. "Wait, so you haven't spoken to him in over a month?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "The Chaldeans in Arabia," I answered. "And there's no need to sound so judge-y."

He shut the book. "I'm not judging you, Abigail," he said. "I just know how much your uncle means to you. And you've been _way _too distracted and stressed lately to start worrying about something else."

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm not distracted."

He gave me a look. "Your jumper is on inside out," he deadpanned.

With a glance down, I realized he was right. I hastily pulled off the sweater, revealing the flimsy t-shirt I'd thrown on earlier that day. It was a little bit thin and low cut, but I hadn't planned on taking off my jumper that day. "What jumper?" I retorted cleverly.

But James was just sort of…staring at me. I felt his eyes slowly travel up my torso, his eyes finally meeting mine. _Damn it, _he was doing that look again. I felt my stomach get tighter with every second that passed.

"What?" I said self-consciously. My voice came out like a whisper.

He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Erm. Nothing."

We didn't say anything for a few moments. I was struggling to remember what we were talking about.

James shook his head again. "Anyway," he said, his voice a little low. "You should write your uncle a letter or something. Let him know you're okay."

I bit my lip. "Yeah, maybe."

"Good!" he said brightly. He glanced at his watch. Suddenly, he stood up and started stacking up the books and papers. "On that note, I must be going."

"What? Where are you going?" I asked, taken off guard. "We've only been working for – "

He raised his eyebrows. "Four hours."

I grimaced. "Oops?"

He laughed. "I told you, Abigail," he said. "I'm happy to study with you. But unfortunately, right now I have to see a man about a game of Exploding Snap."

"Fred?" I deadpanned.

"All the guys, actually," he said, laughing. "Ryan has created something he's calling the 'Pre-NEWT Sanity Regimen'," he explained, using finger quotes. "They're all convinced that if they don't get in at least one fun activity every four hours, they're prone to pre-exam panic attacks, and, therefore, their _futures will burn_. Mitch's words, not mine."

I rolled my eyes. "Good Lord."

"I know."

I sighed. "Well, I guess I could try writing my uncle."

He walked to the door. "You should," he said with a small smile. "It'll give you some peace of mind before the exams." He walked out the door, but within seconds, he popped his head back in. "Hey, what do you say to celebratory ice cream tonight?"

I furrowed my brows. "What are we celebrating?"

"The fact that after tomorrow, we will never have to take another school exam again."

He said this with a smile, but at his words, my face fell. I knew I should be happy about this fact – I mean, taking exams was terrible. But it was another reminder that in a few short weeks, I would be leaving Hogwarts behind forever.

James seemed to realize that something was bothering me. He walked back into the common room and sat down next to me. "What's wrong?" he said softly.

I looked in his eyes. "Doesn't it make you sad?" I whispered. "The fact that we'll never be coming back here again?"

He thought about this, nodding slowly. "It makes me a little sad," he agreed, "but what comes next is going to be great, too. We'll all be living on our own, hopefully doing what we love… It's all very grown-up of us," he joked.

"Yeah, great," I said sourly. "Unless I have to move to America."

He frowned. "That's not going to happen," he said with finality. "It won't."

We sat there quietly, each lost in our own thoughts. I tried to push thoughts of moving out of my mind. There was no way I was going to be able to pass my exams if I was thinking about so many things at once.

I shook my head to clear my mind. "So, ice cream?" I said, prompting a subject change.

James smiled and stood up. "Meet me in the kitchens at ten," he said. On his way out of the door, he called behind him, "You can have a double-chocolate scoop on me!"

I laughed, knowing full well that we wouldn't be paying for anything. I shook my head at his antics. _So weird, _I thought fondly.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

"Bloody hell," I grumbled, slapping the cards down on the table on the Gryffindor common room. "This is unbelievable."

"Aw, don't worry, mate," Ryan cooed. He had soot on his cheek and he was smiling like a maniac. "Some people just can't be beaten. And I am one of those people."

Fred and Mitch burst out laughing. Over on the end of the couch next to Fred, Morgan snorted, shaking her head. She was looking over some notes, while letting herself get distracted by our conversation. Dom and Molly were nowhere to be found, probably off doing some last minute studying. The rest of the common room was empty.

I scowled at her. For the past two hours, Ryan, Fred, Mitch, and I had been playing the longest round of Exploding Snap I had ever played in my entire life. I wasn't sure how this so-called "Pre-NEWT Sanity Regimen" was supposed to help me relax – I don't think I had ever been more frustrated in my life.

I hadn't won a single game.

"Best of forty-five?" Fred suggested, smirking.

I glanced at my watch. It was a little before eight now. "No, I should probably get going," I told them.

"Oh, I'm sure you have enough time to lose another game," Mitch assured me, laughing. "Where do you have to be at ten o' clock anyway? You're not actually going to study, are you?"

I snorted. "No way," I told him. Shuffling the Exploding Snap cards back into their box, I said evenly, "I'm meeting Abigail in the kitchens."

"Kinky," Ryan said with a wink.

Morgan was no longer paying attention to her notes. Her eyes were on me, watching me very closely.

I felt my face grow warm. "We're getting ice cream," I told them. "That's all."

"Is it, though?" Morgan asked, jumping into the conversation.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, suddenly defensive. I stood up, ready to walk out and leave the topic behind.

"You've been acting really strange lately," she said. "Especially whenever Abigail comes up in conversation. It's like you're hiding something."

I shot a quick glance at the guys. They all had wide eyes, watching the strange scene unfold with fascination. When they saw me looking, they all discreetly shook their heads. They knew exactly what I was thinking – did one of them tell Morgan that I was in love with Abigail?

"Well, I'm not," I assured her, walking away.

But before I could reach the door, Morgan stood up in front of me, blocking my way. I tried to walk around her, but every time I moved she stepped in front of me again. She crossed her arms over her chest and stayed put. Confused and slightly annoyed, I mimicked her pose and frowned.

"Uh…Morgan?" I heard Fred say behind me.

She shushed him with a wave of her hand. Suddenly, she looked me in the eyes. I mean, she _really _looked at me, not breaking eye contact for maybe thirty whole seconds. She seemed to be searching for something.

The thing about Morgan Finnegan is that I have never in my entire life met someone who can read others as well as her. With one look, she can just _know _things. I knew that she was obviously trying to find something out, but I just couldn't keep eye contact. I felt like every second she stared at me, the more she was analyzing me. As hard as I tried to keep her gaze, I just couldn't help it...

I broke eye contact.

She gasped. "_I knew it!" _she exclaimed. "You're in love with her!"

I spun around to the guys. "What the hell!" I yelled. I glared at Fred. "You told her?"

He was stunned, an astonished and slightly amused smile on his face. "I didn't say a word, mate."

"Me neither," Mitch said. Ryan was laughing too hard to get any words out, but he was shaking his head back and forth.

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair and looked at Morgan. "You're not going to say anything, are you?"

She smiled widely and sat back down on the couch, obviously very proud of herself. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Of course not," she said. She looked over at Fred for a minute before saying, "But one day, you will. One day, the two of you are going to step out of your cowardly little boxes and admit how you feel about each other."

"I don't think Abigail feels that way about me," I said.

Ryan scoffed. "Merlin, James. Are you blind?" he said disbelievingly.

Mitch nodded. "Yeah, mate," he agreed. "Half the school can tell you guys are into each other."

"You're practically dating already," Fred added with a thoughtful nod.

I stared at my friends with wide eyes. For a few moments, I was convinced they were pulling my leg, playing some coordinated prank on me. But they weren't laughing. Actually, they weren't even smiling. They were being completely serious.

To be honest, I'd never really entertained the idea that Abigail might feel about me the same way I felt about her. Of course, a part of me always hoped for it, but it seemed too good to be true. We had worked too hard to get where we were today to even consider changing what we had. It had always seemed… I don't know. Selfish, I think. The fact that I even had her as a friend was a miracle in itself.

But was it possible that she felt the same way?

Behind me, a group of giggling girls burst through the portrait hole, their loud laughter snapping me out of my daze. I shook my head, furrowing my brows.

"I…" I started, not sure what to say. "I should go."

My friends all smiled at me. Well…more smirking than smiling. They all seemed to realize that I was having some sort of internal battle with myself.

Morgan smiled. "Have fun, James," she said genuinely. "And don't worry about everything so much. Things will work out."

"Yeah, you do that, James," Fred said. "You go enjoy some ice cream with your woman."

Morgan smacked the side of his head, Mitch and Ryan cackling in the background. Off on the side, Morgan and Fred started bickering, arguing about his use of the word "woman." Knowing that their arguments could either end in full-blown fighting or full-blown kissing, I decided that this was probably a safe time to escape.

"Right," I said to no one in particular. Ryan and Mitch weren't even paying attention anymore, tallying up points for either Morgan or Fred during their argument. "I'll see you guys later."

"Use protection," Ryan called distractedly.

I rolled my eyes nonchalantly, even though my face was probably bright red.

Within a few minutes, I reached the kitchens. I pushed the door open slowly, listening to see if anyone was there. I'd forgotten the Marauder's Map when I left the room earlier that day. I usually brought it along to check if there were any teachers grabbing a late-night snack.

It was uncanny how many times that was actually the case.

But when I peeked into the large room, I didn't hear cabinet doors opening or sweets being unwrapped. I heard crying. I automatically pushed the door wide open, rushing in to see if Abigail was okay.

Over on the opposite side of the kitchens, sitting on the ground up against the wall, I saw Abigail. But she wasn't alone, and she wasn't the one crying. She had a panicked look on her face, her arm wrapped around the shoulders of the crying girl.

It was Lily.

She looked up, her blotchy eyes spotting me. "Oh, James," she sobbed. "I'm dying, I just know it."

I rushed over to them, leaning down in front of my sister. "Lils, what on earth are you on about?" I shot an alarmed look at Abigail, but she just shook her head resignedly.

Lily let out another sob. "I'm dying, James," she repeated, "_of a broken heart."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

After James managed to calm Lily down enough to get her to drink a cup of tea, he slipped his hand around my wrist and pulled me to the side of the room.

"What happened?" he whispered, his breath warm on my ear.

I ignored the shivers running up my back and said, "I have no idea. I came here a little early because I finished a letter to my uncle – "

"That's great!" he interrupted me, squeezing my hand.

I smiled, "Oh thanks," I said distractedly. "And then she was like this when I got here." We both glanced over at her sitting on a barstool. Her eyes were half-open, tired from all the crying, and she ran a hand through her tangled red hair. That nervous tick must have been a Potter family trait. "What should we do?"

He took a deep breath and walked over to her, me following him. He went around the bar-like table she was sitting at so that he was facing her. I sat on a barstool next to her and rubbed her arm comfortingly.

"Lils," he said gently. "What exactly happened?"

Lily was silent, biting her lip. "Did someone say something mean to you?" I asked her, helping her along. A few more tears slipped out of the corner of her eye.

After a few minutes of silence, she took a deep breath and said quietly, "It was Thomas Blake."

I exchanged a glance with James. He looked just as confused as I felt. "Wait, Al's friend who was at your house for New Year's? That Thomas Blake?" I asked.

"Dreamy, fit Thomas Blake?" James added. "The one you're always going all loony over?"

I shot him a look. _Not helping, _I mouthed. He shrugged innocently. Boys…

Lily rubbed her eyes before saying in a broken voice, "I thought he liked me. He had walked me to class once. He even told me he would write me letters over holiday." She started crying again so I put my arm around her shoulders. She leaned into me and whispered, "Now I think he was just making fun of me."

James's expression went from concerned to angry in the blink of an eye. "What did he say to you?" he growled.

She let out a little whimper. "I was talking to Panchi Patil and she said that she heard a rumor that Thomas liked me. So I went up to him in the courtyard to ask him to Hogsmeade. Al was standing a little ways off, I don't think he realized what I was going to say," she explained. Through her words, she had started tearing up again, a few tears running down her cheeks.

"So I asked him and…he said…" she continued, taking another deep breath to calm herself down. "He said that he would never go out with an annoying, unattractive, awkward third year like me. A-And then he said," she dropped her voice, apparently mimicking his low drawl, "just because my parents are famous doesn't mean that I'm not the ginger nobody I really am." And she burst into tears again.

"Who the hell does this kid think he is?" I exclaimed, rubbing her back to calm her down.

"He said that you were annoying and not pretty?" James hissed. "Merlin, what a bastard."

"_And _he made fun of you being ginger?" I said, outraged. "_Prick._"

James's eyes grew wide, remembering something. "What did Al do?" he asked her, taking her hand.

Lily's crying had ceased and at this question, she actually let out a laugh. James and I looked at her in alarm, but she gave a small smile. "He punched him," she explained. "Right in the nose."

"Oh, I've taught him well," James joked, smiling again. Suddenly, Lily's face fell, her smile turning into a sad frown.

"What is it?" I prompted. Seeing Lily sad was just one of those things that weren't meant to happen. She was usually the brightest, happiest girl.

"It's just…I _really _liked him, Abigail," she told me. "I just don't understand. How do people…" she trailed off.

"How do people what, Lils?" James asked.

She broke eye contact and traced the rim of her teacup with a finger. "How do people know when they're in love? What do you think its like?" she asked so quietly, I almost thought I imagined it.

James took a deep breath. "This calls for ice cream," he muttered, moving towards the giant freezer.

I glanced at Lily, who didn't seem to hear James. She looked so confused. For a moment, I was stunned into silence. I was so used to Lily acting so mature, so much older than her age. Whether it was the way she held herself, her excessive language, or her premature wisdom, she had always seemed older than her fourteen years.

Sometimes I forgot that she was just a kid.

Lily looked over to me, expecting me to say something. "Oh," I said, startled. "Well…"

I glanced to James for help, but he wasn't looking at me. His gaze was focused on the tub of ice cream as he scooped a hearty amount into three bowls, his brows pulled over his eyes. Even as he worked, he seemed to be thinking hard about something.

"Well, I think people in love want to spend every minute with the other person," I told her, making sure I did not look at James. "It's like…it doesn't matter what you're doing, as long as you're together."

Lily nodded her head, interested to hear more.

I thought back to all of James's weird little ticks – like running a hand through his hair and tapping his fingers when he was nervous. "And people in love always notice things about the other person that nobody else does," I decided. "They see little quirks and flaws that they have and they love them even more for it." Realizing what I'd said, I felt my face go scarlet. "At least…that's what I've heard."

James passed us each a bowl of the frozen treat. I could feel him looking at me now, but I kept my gaze hard on the countertop.

"But…it's not just little things," he said suddenly. "People in love think about the big things too. It's like everything you do, every decision you make, you make it for two people."

I could feel my face getting hotter by the second. Thinking fast, I shoved some ice cream into my mouth.

"That sounds like a lot of work," Lily mumbled.

"I don't think it is," he said. I almost choked on the ice cream. He coughed and said, "I mean, so I've heard. I guess it's like having someone who is like a best friend…but better than that."

Lily smiled widely. "Yeah, I guess that sounds pretty nice," she commented, digging into her ice cream.

I let out a snort of laughter. Of course Lily would have such a casual response to the conversation that just happened.

Meanwhile, I'm just having a _heart attack._ I mean, _seriously. _Why did he have to say stuff like that? He was making it near impossible to not just jump him then and there.

The prick.

While we all helped ourselves to the ice cream, I peeked at James under my eyelashes. He was stirring his cookies and cream slowly, mixing the perfectly sculpted scoops into a black and white mush. I don't think he'd even taken a bite. He was smiling slightly.

Lily let out a sigh. "Well, I suppose I should be off to bed," she announced. Her voice cracked slightly from the crying, but she seemed to be in better spirits overall.

James snapped out of it. "Right," he responded. "Get some rest, Lils."

Lily turned to me and said, "Thanks for talking to me, Abigail. You're such a great friend." And she hugged me.

I smiled and hugged her back. "Not a problem."

After pulling away, she squeezed James hand and turned to leave. "Thanks, Jamie."

He saluted her. We watched her leave, not saying a word. And then we were alone, absolutely silent in the giant room.

I glanced at James. He had taken his and Lily's bowls to the large sink, placing them inside to be washed. He stood there a moment, turned away from me. In my head, I saw myself walking up behind him, slipping my hands around his frame, and pressing my forehead into his back. But I never did.

He turned around. "We should probably head back too," he said. His quiet voice seemed extremely loud in the silent stillness of the room. I nodded, not being able to bring myself to speak. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would say something crazy.

We walked back to our dorm in absolute silence, the kind of wordless comfort that I always felt around James. But this time, it was tenser than usual. I kept thinking back to what he had said – that being in love was like having a best friend, someone who you always thought about and considered in your choices. I couldn't get it out of my head.

He walked me right to my bedroom door but I didn't go in yet. He leaned on the back of a sofa a few feet away and just stared at me, not saying anything.

I cleared my throat. "So NEWTs are tomorrow," I said lamely. "Good luck, I guess."

He didn't say anything, but he took a step closer to me. Suddenly, he reached up and pushed a piece of hair behind my ear. Almost instantly, he dropped his arm and slipped his hands into his pockets. "I don't want to screw anything up," he said softly.

I couldn't tell if he was talking about NEWTs…or something else. Me. My heart was racing, but I didn't let it show. So I answered him the best way I could. "You won't."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with this answer, and took a step back. "Goodnight, Abigail," he said.

I smiled. "Night, James."

As I walked into my bedroom, I prayed to all and any gods above that I would be able to get a good night's sleep before the exams.

But considering that my heart was still racing and my mind was going wild, that seemed pretty unlikely.

* * *

The next morning, about half of the seventh years met up in the Great Hall to take the very first exam: Herbology. It was the only exam that all of my friends would take with me.

Nobody really said anything as we walked into the Great Hall. All of the tables had been cleared away, the whole room overtaken with individual desks. We had to stand in the back of the room until they called our names, telling us where to sit. Dom and Molly were standing off to the side, looking over some notes. Fred and Morgan were talking quietly. Mitch and Ryan seemed to be half-awake, the two of them leaning up against the wall.

James and I stood next to each other. I'm sure I looked like a panicked mess, with crazy hair and sweaty palms. James, of course, looked as cool as a cucumber, as if he took NEWT exams every day.

The proctor started calling names, directing students to their desks. I must have looked like I was about to have a heart attack because James nudged me with his shoulder and said, "Hey, don't worry, okay? You're going to be amazing."

I smiled at him. "Thanks," I said earnestly. "Seriously, thank you so much for all you've been helping with this past month."

The proctor called my name and ushered me to the desk. I tried not to panic as she read off the rest of the class, bringing us closer to the exam. When the final student was called, the testing witch walked to the front of the room, her heels making an obnoxious _click click click, _and she turned to face us.

"You may begin."

* * *

**A/N: **WHOA THIS IS A LONG CHAPTER! It's sort of filler-y, but its definitely got some good stuff. Basically, just James being adorable. Which is always good.

Big shoutout to all the new followers and reviewers! It makes me so happy to see that you all are enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

See you next week.


	26. All This Time

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "All This Time" belongs to One Republic.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six: All This Time**

"_We've got all these words, can't waste them on another. So I'm straight in a straight line, running back to you."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking around me. All the other people in the Three Broomsticks were joking around and laughing, thrilled that exams were finally over and that the school year was almost done. The past week had been so crazy – a different exam every day, studying again every night. The whole week was a bit of a blur, actually. But even though I was done with exams, I was still nervous.

Madame Rosmerta, the old barmaid of the pub, caught my eye behind the counter and asked me if I wanted another butterbeer. I told her that I was fine. The truth was, I had barely touched the first one she'd given me. My stomach was churning in anticipation. My palms were sweaty, my stomach filled with butterflies. It wasn't like I had never seen him before, so I wasn't sure why I was so nervous.

"Abs, is that you?" I heard a voice say.

I thought I was going to keep it together, I really did. But when I heard his voice, I felt the tears prick behind my eyes and I crumbled. I rushed to the door where he was standing and hugged the life out of him.

"Uncle Matt," I whispered, pressing my face into his old maroon jumper. I felt some tears slip out of my eyes and dampen his shirt. "I missed you so much."

He let out a laugh and hugged me back, lifting me off the ground for a few seconds. "Oh, my girl. That was so much easier when you were younger," he commented with a smirk. He pulled back and looked me in the eyes. "Have you gotten fatter since I've last seen you?"

"Hey!" I exclaimed, punching his chest. "Stop ruining the moment."

He laughed again, and I realized how much I had missed that sound. "Thank you for writing me, kiddo. I missed you like crazy."

I looked down at my feet, ashamed that I had gone so long without talking to him. "I'm sorry I was such a prat when I last saw you," I said softly. I stood up straighter, remembering something. "Merlin, and I'm sorry I missed your birthday!"

He smiled. "All is forgiven, kiddo. I'm just glad to see you again." He put his arm around my shoulders. "Come on, let's sit down."

As soon as we sat down, Madame Rosmerta rushed over to our table. "Matthew Bones, is that you?" she exclaimed. "Oh, it _is, _you devilish boy!"

Uncle Matt blushed. "Hello, Rosmerta," he greeted. "You're looking as young as ever."

She brushed off his compliment, waving her hand. "Stop it," she said modestly. "Now, look at how you've grown. I remember the days when you would come in here with your big sister on Hogsmeade trips." The old woman put a hand to her heart. "I miss seeing dear Susan's face around here, Merlin rest her soul. She and Hannah helped me so much after the War."

My eyes wide, I glanced at my uncle. He was already looking at me, a bittersweet expression on his face. "Rosmerta, I'd like you to meet Abigail," he said with a smile. "Susie's daughter."

She let out a slow gasp, looking at me. "Oh, child," she said softly. Normally, on the rare occasion that people spoke of my mother, they did so with false feeling. But when Madame Rosmerta spoke, I could tell she had known my mother. "I've seen you in here countless times and I never knew. I always thought you looked familiar, though." She raised her hand and rested it on my cheek. "You _do_ look like her. Very much, indeed."

I could feel my face starting to warm. I wasn't sure how to respond, so I simply said, "Thank you."

She dropped her hand and started fanning her face. "Oh, I'm forgetting my place. I have a bar to run!" she said, standing up. She pointed a finger at my uncle. "Curse you for distracting me, Matthew. I'll go get you something to drink." And she scurried away.

I looked to my uncle. "I feel like I'm missing something," I said.

He smiled. "Madame Rosmerta knew your mum very well," he told me. I'd suspected as much, but he continued. "You know that me and your mum's parents – your grandparents – died during the War." I nodded, remembering the stories he told me. His whole family had been sought out by Death Eaters because of a connection with the Ministry. "Well, most of our extended family had either died or fled, so your mum didn't have anywhere to live. Madame Rosmerta gave her a job here and the flat upstairs to live in."

I couldn't believe it. My mother had lived above the Three Broomsticks. "No way," I breathed.

Madame Rosmerta set a firewhiskey on the table for my uncle. Before going back to the bar again, she placed a hand on my back with a smile. I smiled back.

Uncle Matt continued. "Susan worked here with Hannah Longbottom for a couple years until your dad got out of school," he explained. "They worked together until Hannah started running the Leaky Cauldron."

"Merlin," I said. Then, I remembered something he'd said. "Wait, my dad was younger than my mum?"

He nodded, taking a drink of his firewhiskey. "Two years younger. Your mum was working here when Danny was Head Boy. Once he finished school, they moved in together. Got married."

I sat back in chair and let out a deep breath. I don't think I'd ever heard so much information about my parents at once. "Wow," I said, unable to form other coherent words. "I-I never knew that."

He was silent for a few minutes, sipping his drink every once in a while. I even allowed myself to have some of my butterbeer, now that I wasn't as wound up. I watched my uncle. He seemed to be thinking about something very hard. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he said, "Abby, I was wrong."

Caught off guard, I spilled some of my butterbeer. "About what?" I asked.

"About keeping so much of your mum and dad from you," he said softly. "All these years, I've let my grief and anger cloud my judgment. It's hard for me to talk about your mum because I miss her so bloody much. I should have told you more about them, let you form your own opinions. Especially about your dad. I should have told you that he was Head Boy."

I mopped up the little puddle of butterbeer slowly, taking this in. I shook my head at him. "I'm not angry anymore, Uncle Matt," I said. "I was that day, but I understand now. I know you were trying to protect me." To my chagrin, I could feel my eyes welling up. "You're my family. And I will always love you, got that?"

"Got it." He smiled at me and I noticed that his eyes were wet. Never in my entire life had I seen my uncle cry. Then he did that I'm-not-crying-I'm-a-man thing and ran a hand across his face and cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, his cheeks pink, "I've brought you something. It's probably long overdue, but…Well, here you go."

He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and produced a piece of paper. When he handed it to me, I discovered it wasn't just a piece of paper – it was a photograph.

My hands shook. "Is this…?"

He nodded. "That's your mum and dad. The day they got engaged."

The two of them were standing in front of a restaurant of some sort. A bright green sign behind their heads read "Jack and Jill's Pub." It looked like a bit of a dump, but that didn't seem to bring their moods down.

I'd seen a few pictures of my mum before, but she looked so beautiful in this one. Her pale skin seemed to glow, her red hair – more orange than mine –plaited down the side of her neck, just like I liked to wear mine. She was wearing a royal blue dress with a gorgeous green pendant at her neck. She showed off her left hand to the camera, a diamond ring settled there. One of her brown eyes winked at the camera, mock posing, when all of a sudden, her smile turned to shocked laughter, and she threw her head back, laughing.

And then there was my dad. I had never seen a picture of him before but for some reason, I could automatically tell it was him. He looked just like how I'd pictured him. He was _really _tall, probably about six foot two, towering over my mother's petite frame. He had short black hair, green eyes, and freckles all over his face. He was watching my mum, laughing along with her. In fact, he only looked at the camera for a second before setting his eyes on my mum again. His arms were wrapped around her.

In the top left corner of the photo, someone had written, "Susan Bones and Danny King. Finally engaged!" in black marker.

I took a deep breath, not knowing what to say. My uncle placed his hand on mine. "You okay?" he asked.

I waited a few moments for my voice to come back and nodded. "Yeah. This is…wow," I breathed. I looked to my uncle and hugged him. "Thank you so much."

My uncle smiled widely, happy that I was happy. He threw back the rest of his firewhiskey and rubbed his hands together. "I think that's quite enough sappy family stuff for now, don't you?"

I laughed. "Absolutely. We can't have you crying again."

"Hey, I wasn't crying," he corrected me, pointing a menacing finger in my direction. "Allergies."

I snorted. "Right."

"Anyways," he said loudly, changing the subject. "How did the NEWTs go? Do you think you'll get into the Ministry Academy?"

My eyes widened. "How do you know about – "

"Neville keeps me informed."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I forgot that the walls have eyes," I retorted. He made a face at me. "Well, I _think_ I did well. I'm not sure though. We get the results back tomorrow."

He hummed thoughtfully. "Can I ask you a question?" he said. I nodded. "Do you really want to do this Ministry Academy?"

I was surprised by the bluntness of his question. No one had actually asked me if I _wanted _to be in the program – I had just accepted the fact that it was what I had to do. I hesitated to answer. "Well…I-I don't know," I said slowly. "I just want to stay here, really. To be with…" My uncle raised an eyebrow at me. I cleared my throat. "My friends. I want to be with my friends."

"I have to go back to America soon," he told me. "I've found an apartment there and I need to start moving in. Will you write me when you decide what you're going to do?"

"You mean I should tell you if I've failed or not?" I deadpanned.

"I mean exactly what I said," he responded.

I sighed. "Yes, I'll let you know what happens."

"Good." He waved Madame Rosmerta down again and ordered another drink for each of us. Whether it was the alcohol or seeing me again, he seemed to be in a very good mood. He'd started glancing over at me with a mischievous glint in his eye.

I was automatically suspicious. "What?" I asked, taking a sip of my butterbeer.

"Oh, nothing," he said, unconvincingly. "So what else is going on in your life? Any new friends?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Not really, no."

He blinked. "So who exactly is this fancy fellow James Potter?"

I choked on my drink. "H-how the hell do you know about him?" I sputtered.

He gave me a lazy smile. "Neville keeps me very, _very _well informed."

I bent over and banged my head on the table, my voice muffled from the wood. "Right," I muttered. "The walls have eyes."

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

Abigail put her hands over her eyes and slumped into my shoulder. "I think I'm having a panic attack," she mumbled.

Across the table, Molly was spinning her wand around nervously. "My dad will _murder _me if I didn't pass all my NEWTs."

"Mol, you're making it snow," Fred grumbled, piling mountains of food onto his plate.

Dom scoffed. "Stress eating, are we?" she retorted.

Mitch kept glancing anxiously to the front of the room where Professor McGonagall was standing. "When do you think she'll start passing them out?" he asked frantically.

But it wasn't just us who were worked up, it seemed the entire Great Hall was buzzing with frantic energy. The hall was loud with excited chatter. Every single seventh year was impatiently waiting for our Headmistress to start handing out the NEWTs results, and all the other students around us were acting crazy by association.

"Probably soon," Morgan assured him, though she was biting her fingernails in anticipation.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Ryan moaned.

I rolled my eyes. "Guys, you all need to _calm down,_" I told them. "Panicking won't let us get our results any faster."

"You're one to talk, jumpy," Abigail responded, reaching over to put her hand over mine. "You've been tapping the table for the last fifteen minutes."

I took a deep breath. "Right. I knew that."

Morgan smacked her hand down on the table, getting all of our attentions. Fred started choking on his scrambled eggs. She pounded his back and said, "Okay, gang, listen up – "

"Oh, so we're a gang now?" Ryan asked, still clutching his stomach.

"You know, I think we should be something cooler," Molly commented. "Like a posse or a squad."

"How is that cooler?" Dom deadpanned.

"Alright, alright!" Morgan interrupted, snapping everyone out of it. "Look, James is right. We all need to relax. Let's just all take a deep breath and eat some breakfast," she instructed us.

"Well, I _would_," Mitch commented, "but I think young Frederick has eaten it all."

Everyone burst out laughing, and Fred's face grew pink. As we scavenged the surrounding plates for food, everyone started their own side conversations. As per usual, Morgan and Fred had started bickering about Merlin knows what. Even Dom and Mitch were deep in a conversation, their heads close together.

I reached over Abigail to grab some pancakes. "So how did it go yesterday?" I asked her distractedly. "You met up with your uncle, right?"

She beamed. "Merlin, it was great," she breathed. "Here, look at this."

She pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to me. It was a photograph of a woman with red hair and a tall man with striking green eyes. Her parents.

"Bloody hell," I said, smiling at her. "You look just like them."

She took the photo back, still grinning. "It's crazy, right? And my uncle actually talked about them. It turns out my mum worked at the Three Broomsticks until my dad finished school."

"In Hogsmeade?" I asked in surprise.

She nodded. "Yeah," she said. "You know, it's kind of funny…"

"What is?"

She gave me a little embarrassed smile. "Before all this stuff with my uncle happened, I'd always thought that it would be really great to run a business. Maybe own a restaurant or a shop or something." She smiled widely, remembering something. "One summer over holiday, I worked at this Muggle pub called The Box…On weekends it got so busy that I barely had time to think. But I always loved the craziness of it, the chaos. I've always wanted to work for something that was completely _mine, _you know?" she trailed off and stayed silent for a few moments, lost in her thoughts.

I watched her. She still had a small smile on her face. "I think you would be really good at that," I commented. "Especially if you got to boss people around," I joked.

She snorted and waved off my compliment. "It was just a pipe dream," she said. "Anyway, I already have my future all planned out." She frowned. "Hopefully."

Not wanting to see her upset, I changed the subject. "What else did your uncle say about your parents?"

She smiled, her troubles forgotten. "Well, I found out that my dad was two years younger than my mum. They started dating in school, but my mum stuck around in Hogsmeade until he finished his seventh year. Of course, that's when he was Head Boy…"

She talked on and on, telling me every detail about her mum and the things she knew about her dad. She barely touched the food on her plate, her hands too busy gesturing wildly. She was smiling so widely that her eyes were crinkling up.

"…And then, this is where they got engaged," she finished, pointing to the picture. She looked at the photo silently for a few moments. I couldn't help but study her. Talking about her family, it was like Abigail had completely changed…or maybe she hadn't changed at all. She was just the same old Abigail, just…different.

She turned to find me looking at her. "What?" she asked, self-consciously.

I shook my head, trying to find the words. "It's just… This is the happiest I've seen you in a long time."

She put the photo down and looked in my eyes. "I am happy," she said softly. "It's like things are finally starting to work out."

I opened my mouth to reply, but I was cut off my tapping at the front of the Great Hall. McGonagall was standing at the Headmistress podium, waiting for everyone's attention.

"Good morning, everyone," she said. "I know the seventh years are eager to receive their results, so I will make this brief…"

As McGonagall prattled off instructions about where we were supposed to go and how we were to receive the results, Fred snapped his fingers to get our attention. The eight of us leaned in towards the middle of the table.

"Alright, guys. This whole production of getting results is going to be messy," Fred said in a hushed tone. "So let's agree to meet up somewhere to open our grades together."

"We can meet in the Head's dorm," Abigail offered. "You all know the bloody password, anyway." I snorted.

"So let's plan on meeting there in thirty minutes," Morgan finished. "Okay, team?"

Ryan threw his hands up. "What the hell, Morgan? I thought we were a gang!" Mitch let out a groan of exasperation.

Molly smacked Ryan's arm. "No, no, no," she said. "We're definitely a posse."

"For Merlin's sake," Dom muttered.

"– And so," McGonagall finished, "all NEWTs students must form a orderly, single-file line if you want to get your results."

It was like a stampede to the front of the Hall, at least one hundred students running to the same place at once.

"Don't forget – _don't _open them yet!" Fred called over the noise.

"See you in a half hour," Abigail said to everyone. With a smile, she uttered under her breath, "You numpties."

I chuckled, hearing her. "You ready?" I asked her, glancing warily to the slowly expanding crowd.

She took a deep breath. "Let's do this."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the eight of us were rigidly sitting on the couches and sprawled across the floor of the Head's common room. Well, except for Abigail. She was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, holding her envelope out in front of her. We each had one. Every single envelope was parchment colored, sealed with wax, and had our names written on the front.

It was probably the most daunting piece of paper I'd ever held.

"Okay, someone needs to go first," I said impatiently.

Molly took a deep breath. "I'll do it," she said. Biting her lip, she tore open the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper. She held her breath for a moment before letting out a huge gush of air. "Three Exceeds Expectations and one Acceptable. That should be okay for my dad."

Fred clapped her on the back. "Congrats, cuz!" he said. "Morgan and I are going to go next."

They opened each others' envelopes. Fred scanned Morgan's results, smiling. "Four E's and an O," he said, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Unbelievable as usual, Miss Finnegan."

Morgan smiled widely, looking to Fred's paper. "You got…" She scanned the paper, her eyes widening. "The same thing!" she exclaimed. "Blimey, you got an O? I never knew you were so smart," she cracked. Fred made a face at her before leaning in for a quick kiss.

"Ew, gross," Dom said. "I'll go next." She pulled out her results and nodded, as if she were pleasantly surprised. "Not half bad. Three A's and an E." She looked to Mitch. "What about you, Mitch? Knowing you, you probably got five Outstandings."

He scanned his results and his ears got red. "What? Did you read it before me or something?"

Ryan snorted. "Well, I got two A's, one Exceeds Expectations, and a Poor. But the E was in Herbology so that's good for medicine," he said, smiling. "What about you, James?"

I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the results. I read the grades and let out a sigh of relief. "Five E's," I told them. "Its borderline but it's good enough for an Auror."

I looked to Abigail, who was still pacing. To be honest, I felt like pacing too. "Abigail," I said gently. "You're next."

She glanced down at the envelope in her hands, not moving to open it. She let out a groan of frustration. "Merlin, I can't do it," she said frantically. "Someone else open it."

Dom stood up and took the paper from her, sliding a comforting arm around Abigail's back. "Okay," Dom said, opening the results. "You got an E in Arithmancy, an E in Herbology, an O in Transfiguration –"

"Nice," I commented. Abigail allowed herself a little smile.

Dom continued. "You got an E in Ancient Runes, and…" Her gaze slowly went up to meet Abigail's eyes. "A-and an A in Potions," she said softly. "I'm so sorry, Abigail."

The whole room was silent. Abigail's face was absolutely stoic as she reached over and took the paper from Dom. "Dear Miss King," she read in a whisper. "The admissions committee has evaluated your NEWT scores, and we regret to inform you that we are not able to offer you a place in the upcoming year's Ministry Training Academy." Then she calmly folded the results in half and placed the paper in the fireplace, letting it burn.

She walked over and sat down on the couch, next to me. She covered her face in her hands. "Merlin, what am I going to do?" she mumbled.

I wanted so badly to touch her, say something to her, provide any kind of comfort – but I couldn't. I was frozen, stuck sitting rigidly on the sofa, watching the fireplace and the burning piece of parchment. I tried to will by body to make some sort of movement, but my mind was screaming, _She's going to leave. She'll be gone. _

Dom, Morgan, and Molly all hovered around Abigail, not entirely sure what to do. Morgan put a tentative hand on her shoulder, but she immediately shrugged it off, standing up quickly. "I-I have to write my uncle," she said, bustling across the room to grab a piece of paper off the desk. "He told me…he said to write to him. I-I should go do that…"

She trailed off, hurrying into her room in a mumbling mess. Inside, we could hear her shuffling papers and dropping things.

The girls exchanged glances. "We should probably go check on her," Molly suggested. The three of them followed Abigail silently into her room, letting the door close behind them with a click.

As soon as the girls left, I felt myself starting to crack. _She's going to leave. _I didn't have anyone or anything to keep me together. _She'll be gone. _I pressed my hands into my eyes until it hurt. _She's going to leave. _I raked both of my hands through my hair. _She'll be gone._

I felt someone put a hand on my shoulder. "James, mate," I heard Ryan say.

I stood up almost automatically. I knew that if I stayed in there any longer, I would do or say something I would regret later. "I have to get out of here," I mumbled, rushing to the door.

I felt Mitch, Ryan, and Fred following after me. "Mate, you have to calm down," Fred said.

"Where are you going to go?" Mitch called after me.

I spun around. "Look, I don't know, alright?" I said, the tension and panic in my voice causing it to crack slightly. "Merlin, I just…" I took a deep breath, willing my heart rate to go down. "I'll see you guys later."

I stalked out of the room without looking back. My feet carried me down the moving staircases and past the Great Hall. I felt almost detached from my body, my feet taking me somewhere that my brain hadn't processed yet. As I walked past the huge doors of the main hall, I saw my classmates and other students walking in from outdoors, smiling and laughing. At that moment, I couldn't understand how anyone could feel even remotely happy – I felt as though someone was holding my stomach in a vice grip and pressing down on my lungs.

As I walked out onto the school grounds and felt the early June breeze, I realized I had no idea what I was going to do. Whether I liked it or not, I'd started to picture Abigail in my future. I couldn't imagine that she wouldn't be present in my life after we left school. I knew I loved her, but it took a series of four hour tests and a dreaded piece of parchment to make me realize that I never wanted to be without her. I couldn't be without her.

In the midst of my silent breakdown, I had stopped walking and stopped dead in the middle of the courtyard. Someone bumped into me, apparently not noticing I was there.

"I'm so sorry I – Oh. Hello, James." It was Neville. He was holding a letter and frowning down at its contents. He must have been reading it while walking.

"Erm…is everything okay?" I asked. It seemed strange to ask that while I was losing it silently. "Bad news from home?"

He glanced up from the letter distractedly. "Well…good and bad, I suppose. It's just… well, Hannah has been hired for a position at the Ministry," he told me. "Which is amazing, of course," he added. "She's wanted this job for ages. International Magical Cooperation."

I furrowed my brows. "So, what's the bad news?"

Neville scratched the back of his head. "She'll have to stop running the Leaky Cauldron if she takes this job." Ever since I could remember, Neville's wife Hannah had been the owner of the Leaky Cauldron. My parents said the pub had been a dump before she bought it, transforming it into the classy bar it was today. "She writes that she might have to sell it," Neville said.

"Sell it?" I protested. "But everyone loves the Leaky Cauldron."

He nodded solemnly. After a moment, he took a deep breath and shook his head. "Anyway," he said, "you probably have better things to do than listen to me blabber on. How were your NEWT results?"

I frowned, my mind automatically going back to Abigail. "I did fine," I told him lamely. "I'll qualify for Auror training."

Neville clapped me on the shoulder and smiled widely. "That's fantastic!" he exclaimed. But seeing my lack of reaction, he frowned. "What about Abigail?"

I clenched my jaw and ran a hand through my hair. "She…she didn't get into the program," I told him quietly. "She's going to have to go to America."

He was silent for a few moments, shaking his head soberly. "That's awful. Damn it, I wish there was something I could do."

And with his words, it hit me.

A plan so random and spontaneous that the chances of it working out were slim to none. A scheme that even Lily would be proud of. _But it could work, _I thought.

"Well, maybe there is," I said slowly.

Neville seemed to understand that this included him. He nodded his head slowly, a glint in his eyes. "How can I help?"

I took a deep breath. "I have an idea," I said. "But it might be a longshot."

* * *

**A/N: **Don't hate me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though the ending was a cliffy!

Guys, it's almost done. There will be one more chapter and an epilogue. Haha I'm starting to get a little depressed...

See you next week!


	27. Take This To Heart

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Take This To Heart" belongs to Mayday Parade.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Take This to Heart**

"_And if you love me so, I'm going to tell the whole world that it's the greatest thing that's happened to me. I've finally found a good reason to come home."_

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

One day had passed, but it felt like an eternity. It _had_ to have been more than twenty-four hours ago… It didn't feel possible that it had only been one day since I realized that everything would change. I should have felt relieved that exams were over, ecstatic that classes had finished, melancholy that my time at Hogwarts would end in mere days. But I didn't really feel anything.

I felt…blank.

I probably should have been upset or angry, anything. In a matter of weeks, I would be leaving my whole world behind. My school, my home, my friends…James. It didn't feel real. But I still felt nothing. I didn't cry, I blinked. I never said a word. Instead, I breathed silently. Everything was quiet.

I sat on the corner of my bed, surveying the room. In a few hours I had packed up half of my things. Every year at the end of the school year, I would pack my trunk and suitcases with over-worn clothes and tattered books to be unpacked again back home. But this year was different. This year, I wouldn't even have time to unpack my things before I left for America.

Staring blankly around my room, I hardly noticed when James walked up quietly and leaned against the doorframe.

"Hey," he greeted softly. "You hungry?"

I looked at the world's most beautiful boy. After the scene yesterday, I hadn't seen him again. Honestly, I had stayed locked up in my room. I tried to write a letter to my uncle, but I ended up sitting around distractedly, trying to forget. I was afraid that if I interacted with anyone, I would end up going into bitch-mode. Isolation seemed like the better option.

James's hair was kind of messed up, sticking out in all directions like he just woke up. I guess he had. He was wearing faded gray jeans with a black sweatshirt. Seeing him made my heart race, as usual. This time, though, it also made me kind of sad.

I shrugged nonchalantly, hoping that my face didn't convey anything that was going through my head. "Not really," I told him. "I should probably keep packing my things. And I never got around to writing my uncle. I was a little…frantic."

He walked up right in front of me and I had to crane my neck to see his face from my seated position. "Come on, you have four more days to finish packing," he coaxed me, holding out his hand. "And you can write your uncle later. Come to breakfast."

"I don't know…"

But he seemed unnaturally determined for me to attend breakfast. "You should really get out of this room. Besides," he added, raising an eyebrow, "you hardly ever skip breakfast."

He had me there. I sighed, not even bothering to wonder why he was so persistent, and said, "Well, I do like pancakes," and took his hand. He didn't let go of my hand until we walked out of the dorm. And for about twenty seconds, I forgot all about why I was so…blank.

We walked to the Great Hall in comfortable silence. But in my head, my thoughts were jumping around and bumping into each other in a scrambled mess. _Four more days, _James had said. I only had four more days here…four more days with him.

Right before we walked through the doors, my hand shot out in a panic, grabbing James's arm and pulling him into an alcove where no one could see us. He was adorably puzzled, looking around for something to have caused my sudden attack.

Before he could say a word, I blurted out, "Look, James, there's something I want you to know."

"Is everything –"

I put up a hand to stop him. "No, don't interrupt me. This is important. Probably. I mean, of course it's important, it's just…" I shook my head, willing myself to stop acting like a babbling idiot. "Okay, what I'm trying to say is…James, at the beginning of this year, I hated you."

He cocked his head and squinted at me. "Okay?"

I smacked his arm. "I wasn't finished yet," I told him. "At the beginning of the year, I hated you. But then I got to know you and everything changed. I just want you to know that I'm really going to miss…"

I trailed off. James was staring hard at the floor, his eyebrows furrowed together. "Wait…" he said, looking up at me. He almost looked…indignant. "Are you trying to say _goodbye_ to me? Because that's what it sounds like."

I stared at him blankly. I hadn't pulled him aside to say goodbye, but he was right – that's _exactly _what it sounded like. I sighed. "James, I'm going to be leaving soon," I reasoned with him. "I'll have to say it eventually."

"No, you won't." And with that, he walked away from me into the Great Hall.

I stood there, open-mouthed for a few seconds, taken off-guard by his sudden disappearance. I scoffed, racing after him. "Hey!" I called from behind him. He didn't turn around. "You can't just walk away from me while I'm talking to you!"

"I believe I just did," the smartass called over his shoulder. Students eating their breakfasts looked over in interest.

I rolled my eyes at his typical behavior. "James, you're being ridiculous," I told him, still walking quickly to keep up. He shrugged at me, raising a hand to wave to our friends at our typical spot. Annoyed with his nonchalance, I grabbed his arm and forced him to face me right before we reached our friends.

The playfulness that I knew he was hiding behind was gone. He looked into my eyes, his face a carefully controlled mask. "You _always _do this," I accused him in a hushed whisper, avoiding the gazes I knew we were attracting. "You avoid something as long as possible, thinking it will all work out in the end. But when you realize that what you want is impossible, you run."

"That's not what I'm doing now," he said, shaking his head.

But I didn't believe him. "You can't avoid things forever," I responded. I took a step closer to him, trying to convey that I wasn't trying to upset him. "This _is _going to happen, whether you like it or not."

"Well, I _don't_ like it," he said strongly.

I sighed. "Fine, let's just forget about it –"

"No, Abigail," he responded, taking a step closer to me. He took my hand for a second before glancing around and dropping it, realizing we had an audience. Looking directly into my eyes, he said in a soft voice, "You have to realize… there is _nothing _I wouldn't do for you. Nothing."

I felt all the air leave my lungs. I opened my mouth to try to formulate words, but I was cut off by a series of loud screeches. Owls swooped over the tables, dropping parcels and envelopes down to the students below. Over James's shoulder, I saw Fred pick up an envelope and read the address. For some reason, he immediately looked over to where James and I were standing.

"Abigail," he called. "There's a letter for you."

James turned around, looking to Fred. I saw him mouth something I couldn't quite make out, giving Fred a look. Fred gave a quick nod in response. They looked kind of… rigid. In fact, all of my friends looked suspiciously tense.

I furrowed my brows at their strange behavior, walking past James.. I took the letter from Fred, glancing at James. He had sat down at the table and was piling food onto his plate. He was making a point to not look at me, for some reason.

I shook my head, remembering the letter. I looked at the address on the envelope. "That's weird," I mumbled.

"What's weird?" Morgan asked, taking a sip of orange juice.

I glanced at her. "Well, I just figured that it was from my uncle…But it's from Hannah," I told them. "Hannah Longbottom."

"Come on, then," Mitch prompted, glancing at James. He was looking over interestedly. "Open it."

I tore open the envelope and pulled out the paper. I cleared my throat and read aloud:

_Dear Abigail,_

_ I'm always looking for an excuse to write you more often, and it seems I have found it. Even though your uncle is one of my closest friends, the prat didn't see the need to tell me that he was going to America! The gall of him. Anyway, Nev told me the whole story – about Matty going to the States, about you needing to get into the Ministry Training Academy…and about you not making it. I'm so sorry, Abigail. I know how hard you must have worked._

_ Well, I assure you that I did not write this letter to make you feel any worse. The fact is, I have good news! Recently, I have been hired by the Ministry to work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation! Obviously this is fantastic, but there is one thing holding me back. If I were to accept the position, I'd have to sell the Cauldron. I'm extremely hesitant to hand off the pub to someone I don't know, so it has been a great source of conflict lately._

_ But that's where you come in!_

_ The thing is…the Leaky Cauldron is yours, if you want it. Now, I know that sounds crazy, selling the Leaky Cauldron to a teenager. But you are an adult. If you were to take over, I wouldn't have to worry about some stranger running my business. I trust you completely. Neville was the one to suggest it to me, and I couldn't agree more! _

_And because I know you are asking yourself this…No, Abigail. I'm not pranking you! I have my reasons for saying this. I know this is a lot to take in, but think it over! Let me know what you decide._

_ Love, _

_ Hannah _

The table was silent. I scanned the page one more time to assure myself that it was real. And then I pinched myself. Sure enough, I felt it.

"Holy Merlin," I breathed. "This is actually happening."

It was like time stopped. Everything around me slowed down, their importance diminishing. All that mattered to me was that I had a chance. A chance to work, a chance to live, a chance to do something that I could love. I could stay.

I could stay with him.

I met James's eyes across the table. He was already watching me with a small smile. He didn't say anything to me, but I _felt _it. His eyes held more emotion than I had ever seen in him. His eyes said, _I know. I always knew that things would work out. _Part of me thought maybe they said something else, too. Something that would make my heart stop. But maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.

I looked around to see everyone else watching me, big smiles on all of their faces. "So?" Ryan said. "What are you going to do?"

His words snapped me out of it. I stood up quickly, knocking over a goblet of juice in my haste. I threw some napkins on the mess and said, "Well, I have to go thank Neville!" I told them, knowing there was a huge smile on my face.

Molly glanced at James. He shook his head slightly. "Neville?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I answered, moving to leave. "Hannah says that he was the one who suggested it."

"But – "

"He's probably in his office," James said, cutting her off. I looked between the two of them, wondering what was going on.

"Is…is something going on that I don't know about?" I asked everyone, seeing all of their curiously innocent faces. "You're all acting kind of…skittish."

James turned to face me. "Only you would worry about everyone else when something amazing has happened to you," he said, smiling.

I was still suspicious, but I nodded. "I'll be back soon, I promise," I told everyone. But I looked at James when I said, with a smile, "I'm here to stay."

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

After one last glance in my direction, she hurriedly walked away, a new bounce in her step. I watched her leave, my chest aching in the best way possible. _I'm here to stay. I'm here to stay. _

When I turned back around to the table, I saw five pairs of eyes watching me. Fred raised an exasperated eyebrow. Dom was shaking her head at me.

"Mate," Ryan deadpanned.

"What?" I asked defensively.

Morgan smacked my arm – a habit she seemed to be growing extremely fond of since she and Fred got together. "Why didn't you tell her that it was _you _who set all this up?" she accused. "Not Neville."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know," I mumbled. "I figured if I can't tell her how I feel, I might as well show her."

Dom bumped my shoulder with hers lightly. "But _why _can't you tell her how you feel?" she asked softly.

"Because I don't want to lose her!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. "If I say something she doesn't want, I could risk losing her."

"Mate, I've said it before and I will say it again," Mitch said strongly. "Abigail feels the same way about you."

"James, we can all see it," Dom said. "The looks you give each other sometimes…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "It's the way that my parents look at each other. It's how Morgan and Fred look at each other."

Morgan blushed at this, but Fred just took her hand and smiled at her. When Fred looked at Morgan, it seemed like there was no one else he would rather be with, nothing else he would rather be doing. _Is that how I look at Abigail? _

Mitch glanced at Dom, nodding his head. "It's the real thing," he commented.

"But –"

Molly shook her head. "James, listen to me. She's staying," she said evenly. "She's _staying. _What's stopping you now?"

And that's when I realized that she was right. _She was staying. _And there was nothing holding me back.

"Nothing," I said, the truth of it all still dawning on me. "There's nothing holding me back…I'm going to tell her. I _have_ to tell her." I stood up from the table quickly, knowing what I had to do. "I-I have to go!"

"Finally," Dom groaned with a mocking scowl. Morgan and Molly smiled widely, and Ryan and Mitch were nodding enthusiastically.

Fred clapped me on the back. "Go get your girl, mate."

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

My knuckles knocked excitedly on Neville's office door. I paused, waiting patiently for about seven seconds before knocking again. "Professor Longbottom? Anyone home?" I called. I glanced around to see if there were any other students around before saying, "Neville! Are you in there?"

I heard the shuffling of feet and the _click _of the lock. The door opened. "Abigail," he said with a smile, moving the door more open so that I could walk inside. "Is there a reason you are so especially persistent and perky this morning?"

I turned around to face him, holding up the letter from his wife. "I think you know," I said. "You talked to Hannah for me?" I said softly, touched.

He shrugged humbly, in that extremely _Neville _way of his. "I could tell that going to America would be torture for you, being apart from your friends and all," he said. "And your uncle is one of my closest friends which practically makes you family. It was the least I could do."

I leaned over and gave him a huge hug. "You have no idea what this means to me," I said strongly.

He laughed and hugged me back. "Well, I'd like to say it was all my idea but I really can't," he said. "If it hadn't been for James, I don't know if I would have been able to help. It really was a great -"

I pulled away, frozen. "_James?_" I asked him. "Are you saying that James had something to do with this?"

He looked at me, surprised. "He had everything to do with it," he said. "It was his idea."

_It was his idea. _The words made me stop in my tracks. James had done this. He was the reason that I finally had a chance.

"He never said," I breathed. "He was there when I got the letter, but he didn't say a word."

Neville nodded with a small smile, as if he knew that James would do this. "I think you underestimate him sometimes, Abigail," he said gently. "I don't think you realize the lengths he would go to for you."

And then everything from that morning made sense. _There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, _ he'd told me. _Nothing._ The words he'd said. His insistence that I made it to breakfast on time. The way everyone was acting.

It all made sense. He had done it all for me.

"I have to go see him," I realized, turning to leave. "He never told me."

Before I could get any further, Neville put a hand on my arm. "Wait," he said. "I told Hannah that I would let her know when you'd decided. Why don't you go see her yourself?"

I furrowed my brow. "Go to the Leaky Cauldron?" I asked, confused. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"You can Floo from my office," he said, gesturing to the fireplace. "I spoke to Professor McGonagall yesterday and told her that you might need it." He gave me a wink. "I was being optimistic."

I was torn. I wanted to go see Hannah, thank her for what she was doing…But I needed to see James. "I want to," I told him. "But James…"

He smiled and patted my shoulder. "James will be here when you get back," he assured me. "He's not going anywhere."

I still wanted to see him, but I nodded. "Alright. I won't be long."

He directed me to the fireplace and handed me a dish of floo powder. As I called "The Leaky Cauldron!" and felt the unpleasant pull of flooing, I couldn't help but think of James. Maybe I didn't get to see him right now, but we had all the time in the world. Because I wasn't going anywhere, either.

* * *

**James Sirius Potter**

I was maybe five minutes behind her, but when I got to Neville's office, Abigail wasn't there. The door was open, and I could see Neville sitting behind his desk, writing a letter.

I knocked on the open door. "Can I come in?"

He looked up from his work and smiled. "Yeah, come on in. What can I do for you?"

I sat down across from him. "Abigail came to see you, right?" I asked, trying to control the nerves in my voice. "What did she say?"

He gave me a pointed look. "She didn't seem to know that you were the one behind all of this," he told me. He put down his pen and gave me his full attention. "So I told her."

My stomach tightened. "Was she okay with it?" I asked. "I mean, I sort of did all this without talking to her about it."

Neville smiled widely, and sighed. "James, Abigail cares about you. A lot," he said. "The second she found out, she said she wanted to see you. I highly doubt you're in any trouble here."

I let myself smile. She wanted to see me. "Well, where is she now?" I asked frantically. "I need to see her."

Neville squinted at his desk and scratched the back of his head. "You know, I think she mentioned something about going to the library…" he trailed off. He shrugged. "But I could be wrong."

I moved to go. "Thanks, Neville," I said earnestly. "I'll –"

"Don't go running off yet," he said. "Hannah really wanted to thank you for recommending Abigail. She wanted to see you in person. You can Floo to the Cauldron from my office."

"I can?" I asked in surprise. "Is that allowed?"

"Well, I got it approved by McGonagall yesterday," he told me with a smile. "Just being optimistic."

I glanced at the fireplace, feeling torn. I knew Hannah wanted to see me, but I _needed_ to see Abigail. I couldn't wait much longer. "I don't know…" I said. "I should probably – "

He patted me lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, James," he said, steering me towards the fireplace. "Abigail will be here when you get back."

I nodded resignedly. "Yeah, okay," I decided. "You're right."

Neville handed me some floo powder and directed me to the fireplace. I stepped inside and took some powder in my hand. Right before I called out "The Leaky Cauldron," Neville smirked at me and said, "Good luck."

I made a face. _Why would I need luck? _I thought. _And why is he smirking? _But before I could ask him these questions, I felt the familiar green flames tickle my sides. And as I felt the strange tugging sensation on my stomach, I could have sworn I heard Neville laughing…

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I brushed some soot off of my jeans and stepped out of the fireplace. The Leaky Cauldron was empty, as it hadn't opened for business yet. Chairs and barstools were balanced upside-down on the tabletops, the universal symbol for "this bar is closed." Bottles of wine, liquor, and various glasses lined the back of the bar, waiting to be used. A sink in the back was self-washing dishes, a washing charm guiding the suds across the plates.

I felt my chest go warm in an extremely pleasant way. I already loved it here.

"Hannah?" I called out. "Are you here?"

After a moment of silence, I heard the clicking of heels against the wooden staircase. Hannah Longbottom was walking down the stairs, balancing a big box in her hands. Her head was barely visible behind the huge container.

"Hello, Abigail!" she called, her voice slightly muffled. "Can you give me a hand?"

I rushed up to meet her at the bottom of the stairs and helped her move the box to the closest table. I heard the _clink_ of glasses inside. Hannah let out a huge breath. "Ah, thank you so much," she said, pushing some of her short blonde hair away from her face. She reached behind the bar and produced two bottles of butterbeer. She handed me one and gestured to a table.

I took the butterbeer and sat down. "Why didn't you just levitate the box?" I asked her, laughing slightly.

Her eyes widened slightly and she laughed. "Oops!" she exclaimed. "I didn't even think of that!"

I laughed, feeling myself grow more comfortable with every second I spent here. Hannah had one of the brightest personalities I had ever experienced. She was unconventionally beautiful, extremely quirky, and adorably awkward to the point that it was obvious why Neville would fall for her. They were perfect for each other.

She took a drink of her butterbeer. "So is this an acceptance visit or a rejection visit?" she asked me. "You've obviously gotten my letter."

I smiled at her widely before looking down at my butterbeer, my finger tracing the label. My smile faded a bit. "Hannah, you have no idea what this means to me," I told her softly. "But are you sure you want to give me the Cauldron? I mean, I could mess everything up. Doom your business."

She smiled in understanding and put her bottle down. "Abigail, I'm not sure if you knew this," she said, "but your mother was one of my best friends in school."

"She was?" I whispered.

Hannah nodded. "My mother was killed during the War. Neville may have mentioned that before," she said gravely. "During my sixth year, Susan was the one person who stuck with me through everything. Your mum saved me. I'm not sure how my life might have turned out if she hadn't helped me stay strong. I may not have survived the War."

She smiled at me and continued. "Once the War ended and we left school, we both got work at the Three Broomsticks with Rosmerta. At work, Susan was…a whirlwind. She was so creative and came up with all these fantastic ideas to improve business. I'm pretty sure she is the reason that place is still standing."

"My uncle mentioned that you worked together," I commented. "I just didn't know how close you were."

"Well, we grew apart eventually. She moved in with Danny and I started dating Neville…we just started going our separate ways," she said. "But I will never forget her."

She was silent for a few moments, probably lost in her thoughts. My own mind reeled. In the past couple of weeks, I had learned more about my mother than I'd known in my entire life. It finally felt like I was starting to get to know her.

Hannah reached over the table and patted my hand. "Abigail, I want you to know something," she said. "I'm not giving you the Cauldron because I feel I owe anything to your mum. You're not some charity case."

I broke her gaze, ashamed to realize that I had thought this was the reason. "Then why are you trusting me with this?" I asked her. "It's so much."

"Because I don't think anyone has ever told you how much you are like your mum. In your looks, yes," she said, "but in your heart, more than anything. And if you are anything like your mum – which you absolutely are," she added, "Then you will be able to run this bar and handle its wonderful craziness with impeccable grace." She paused for a moment. "Your parents would be so proud of you."

I felt my eyes sting at her words. "Thank you," I said softly.

She smiled widely. "So, I guess that means you accept my offer! But I'm curious, Abigail," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Most people would jump at the opportunity to move to a faraway land…What is keeping you here?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but I was silenced by the sound of her fireplace roaring. Someone was coming through the Floo. The bright flames settled down, and there he was.

"James," I breathed, getting up from my chair.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," I heard Hannah say under her breath. I could almost hear the smirk in her voice.

But I hardly paid her any attention. All I could register was _James. _He was here. The world's most beautiful boy in all his messy-haired, sweatshirt-and-jeans-clad glory. He had that adorably puzzled look on his face again, something I was growing quite fond of.

"Abigail," he said, sounding surprised. He stepped out of the fireplace. "What are you doing here?"

I gestured to Hannah. "I came to thank Hannah for the job," I told him, still slightly out of breath from his sudden appearance. "Neville let me Floo from his office. What are _you _doing here?"

He frowned, as if he were realizing something. "Neville said Hannah wanted to thank me," he said. "And I Flooed from his office…"

I turned to face Hannah, confused at the coincidence. She innocently cocked her head to the side, as if she heard something. "You know, I think I left the stove on upstairs," she said lightly. "I'll just go check on that."

She dropped me a quick wink and rushed back up the stairs. And then we were alone.

"You realize they set this up, don't you?" I heard James quietly say from right behind me, laughing slightly. He had taken a few steps closer to me. I could almost _feel _how close he was. The air around us crackled with the same electricity I always felt when he was close.

I turned around slowly, my eyes meeting his chest – he was that close. I didn't answer his question, though. "James," I said softly. "Why did you do this?"

He looked down at me. "Why'd I do what?"

I looked around me. "All of this," I answered. "You talking to Neville, suggesting the idea to Hannah…why did you do it?"

He paused, taking a deep breath. "I did it for you," he said simply, quietly. "I didn't want you to go. And I don't think you wanted to go either… Abigail, I've wasted so much time with you. I had to do this one thing. You have no idea how much you mean to me."

I let out a huge breath, my heart beating extremely fast "Merlin, you're really terrible, you know that?" I groaned.

He laughed, confused. "What did I do now?" he questioned.

I shook my head at him, smiling. He didn't realize that the things he said made me even _crazier _for him. I had never felt that way about anyone in my entire life. My heart was his. I wasn't going anywhere.

And I realized…there was nothing holding me back anymore.

"Oh, sod it," I whispered. And then I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him.

Kissing him was even better than I remembered. The second I pressed my lips to his, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. Under my hands on his chest, I could feel his heart beating wildly, reacting to my kiss. The fact that I could feel how I affected him made me kiss him even harder.

I slipped my hands into his hair and was rewarded when I felt his tongue touch my bottom lip. His hands moved from my waist to either side of my face, holding my head gently. With every kiss, I felt the ache in my chest fade away to a warm sensation. I had wanted to do this for _so long. _

James pressed a few kisses to my jaw line before returning to my mouth, placing a few chaste kisses there. Our frantic kisses slowed down to gentle pecks. I put my hands on his waist, loving how he towered over me and made me feel undeniably safe.

"Abigail," he said softly against my lips, his voice low and husky from the kissing. It was so damn attractive that I kissed him again.

"Mmmhmm?"

He kissed me. "I need to tell you something," he told me with a lazy smile. "And it's pretty important, so you'll have to stop snogging me for a second, okay?"

I made a face at him and kissed him again, just to spite him. "I don't know," I said. "That's a lot to ask for. You're pretty good at it."

He laughed and kissed my forehead. "It'll be worth it."

I sighed good-naturedly. I pressed one last kiss to his lips and nodded. "Okay," I said. "I'll be on my best behavior."

He took a small step away from me so that I could look him in the eyes without straining my neck. His hands rested on either side of my neck.

"Abigail, you're completely mad," he said with a straight face. Despite feeling ridiculously giddy from his kisses, I raised my eyebrows. "Like, up-the-wall, one hundred percent bonkers. You're extremely weird_, way_ too stubborn, you're loud….And you snore. But that's not the point."

"Oh no, keep going," I encouraged him. "This is going really well for you."

He laughed. "No, listen. What I'm trying to say is that you're probably the _farthest _thing from perfect…but you're perfect for me. You're kind of messed up," he said with a tilt of his head and a little smile, "but it makes who you are. It's what I love about you." He took a deep breath, and looked me in the eyes. "I-I love you. I'm in love with you and I want to be with you. I get it if you don't want to go there with me, but I needed to tell you."

This time, I was sure my heart stopped completely. There was no way I could have heard those words and still be functioning normally. My arms tightened around him. "James –"

But he cut me off. "And don't feel like you have to say anything to me just because I said that to you," he rambled. "That wasn't the point."

I smiled, shaking my head. "_James –_"

"Especially considering I just kind of insulted you. Multiple times," he said with a frown. "I probably should have thought this through beforehand –"

I brought my hands up to his cheeks, pulling his face down to mine. I put all the emotion I could into that kiss, hoping that he could understand exactly how I felt. I wrapped my arms around his neck and I felt him slide his arms tightly around my waist, his fingers slipping underneath the hemline of my jumper. His cold hands on my warm skin sent unbelievably pleasant shivers down my spine.

I pulled away from him, knowing that if I kissed him much longer, I would forget what I was trying to say. "James."

He rested his forehead against mine and blinked a few times. "Yeah?"

I laughed at him. "I love you, too, you great idiot," I said quietly. I pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. "So you're pretty much stuck with me now."

He gave me a huge smile and hugged me tightly. I squeezed him back, pressing my face into his sweatshirt, something I'd imagined myself doing countless times. "I guess I can deal with that," he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

I smacked his chest, laughing. He leaned down to kiss me again, but the click of Hannah's heels against the staircase made him stop. She paused halfway down the staircase, glancing over at James and me. Neither of us had made any move to separate from each other.

"Oh, good," she said with a smirk. "It seems you've worked everything out. You can leave now."

My eyes widened slightly, and I glanced at James. "Pardon?"

"My work here is done," she explained. "I should owl Nev and tell him!" She turned around and started walking back up the stairs. "I'll be in touch, Abigail," she called over her shoulder.

I shook my head in disbelief. "They _totally _set this up."

James nodded, staring off where Hannah had just left. "I told you so."

I looked up at him. _He loved me._ This weird, obnoxious, hysterical, beautiful boy loved me. He glanced down and saw me looking at him. With a smile, he leaned down and kissed me again. I responded enthusiastically.

Seriously, he was _really _good at it.

* * *

After we flooed back to Neville's office, we walked back to the Heads dorms in blissful silence, hand in hand. Every once in a while, James would pull me over to a random alcove and press a few kisses to my lips. I would laugh at his eagerness but happily comply, growing increasingly fond of this new activity.

Before we reached our dorm, we came across Neville and Professor McGonagall in the hallway. My face reddened and I moved to drop James's hand, but he kept his fingers tightly intertwined with mine.

"Miss King," McGonagall greeted. "Mr. Potter."

I cleared my throat. "Erm…Good morning, Headmistress," I said. James laughed quietly, obviously enjoying how uncomfortable I was. I made a mental note to smack him later.

She glanced down at our hands. "I certainly hope new developments will not hinder your abilities to complete Head Boy and Girl tasks," she said, looking down her spectacles at us. "Because, as it turns out," she said in a mock-surprised voice, "you are both quite capable. Just because the school year ends in a few days does not mean you can knock off early."

James tried to cover up his laugh with a cough. "No worries, Headmistress," he said seriously. "I'll make sure Abigail doesn't neglect her duties. You don't have to worry about me, though," he added with a wink. "I'm extremely responsible."

I elbowed him in the side. Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes at him and walked on. But on her way past me, I could have sworn I saw her smile.

Neville stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking. He nodded towards are intertwined hands. "Seems like everything has worked out," he commented. It wasn't a question.

James glanced down at me, not knowing how to respond to that. "Erm…yeah," he said. "Thank…you?"

I snorted at his response. Neville, though, put up his hand, nodding cockily. "Oh, no need to thank me," he said, walking past us. "I know how good I am." He followed behind Professor McGonagall, whistling innocently.

I shook my head, dumbfounded. "You know," I muttered. "Sometimes I worry about how involved our teachers are."

James let out a bark of laughter and tugged on my hand. "Come on," he said, nodding towards our door a little ways down the hallway. "Let's go."

I let him pull me away, smiling at him. As we walked, I glanced up at him, studying him. When we reached the door, he looked down and saw me staring at him. We paused in the doorway.

He smiled. "What?"

I reached up a pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. It didn't have any of the heat or fervor of our earlier kisses, but it was just as passionate. "I love you," I said quietly. I felt a little strange saying it out loud…but in a good way. It was like learning someone's name for the first time. The first time you say it out loud, it's unfamiliar and strange…but the more you say it, the easier it gets. The more wonderful it is.

So I decided I would say it a lot.

He didn't have to say it back, because I knew it was true. I saw it when he looked at me. I heard it in the way he said my name. It was pretty wonderful.

But he said it anyway. "I love you, too," he said. He leaned down and kissed me again.

Just then, the door to our dorm opened. From the inside. James broke the kiss and we looked over, confused.

"No bloody way," I heard.

"Sweet Merlin, has it finally happened?" someone said hysterically.

I glanced over and saw them all. Every single one of our friends standing in the front hallway of our dorm room, watching us. Dom, Molly, Morgan, Fred, Mitch, and Ryan. The whole lot of them. And they were looking extremely too excited.

"Merlin," James mumbled.

"Oh my god, it has," Fred exclaimed. He and Morgan high-fived without looking at each other. Molly had a smug look on her face.

Mitch put his hand out to Dom. "I believe you owe me five galleons," he told her.

Dom sighed and handed him the money. "I thought I would die of old age before you two finally got to it."

My eyes widened. "Guys!" I exclaimed.

They just shrugged innocently. Ryan laughed and clapped James on the back. "Took you long enough, mate," he said.

"Thanks, mate," James deadpanned. He pulled me into the dorm and we heard our friends follow close behind us.

"So how did it happen?" Molly said mock-sweetly, batting her eyelashes. "I want to hear all the details."

"Oh, come on, guys," Morgan called from the doorway. She and Fred had stayed back, Fred's arm around Morgan's shoulders. "Let's leave them alone."

"Yeah," Fred agreed, smirking. "Now that Abigail's staying, we can pester them _whenever we want."_

Everyone laughed, but Fred's words made me smile widely. I was here to stay. And I planned to be with James every step of the way.

"Alright, alright," Molly mumbled. She dropped a wink in our direction, where James and I were still holding hands. "You kids have fun now." I felt myself go red in the face.

Everyone started to leave, cracking jokes along the way. They all laughed and walked out together. But I couldn't be annoyed with them for a second. I smiled and rested my forehead on James's chest. I felt him press a kiss into my hair.

After a few calls of "Get it, King," from the girls and a high-pitched "Make good choices!" from Ryan, they were almost all gone. But Morgan lingered in the doorway and sent a small smile my way. _This is what it feels like, _her smile said. _Being in love. _

Once she closed the door behind her, James and I were alone.

I looked up at him. "So."

"Yeah."

We laughed, our voices loud in the newfound silence of the room. I took his hand and guided him to the couch. We sat down, his arm automatically sliding around my shoulders. I rested my head on his shoulder and looked up at him.

He was staring straight ahead, maybe looking at the bookshelf. But maybe he was just staring off into space. He had a small smile on his face. A smile of contentment. I knew without looking into a mirror that I had a similar look on my face.

James knew me better than anyone else. He'd seen me at my absolute worst, and maybe even at my best. He knew how weird, loud, and messed up I could be…but he somehow loved me for it. He knew my flaws, but loved me anyway. And that's what made it so real.

I had no way of knowing if James would be my forever. I'm only a teenager, after all. I couldn't pretend to know what my future would hold. But that was okay. Because James was my _right now. _

And in that moment, that seemed pretty perfect.

"So," James said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. He looked down at me. "What happens now?"

I smiled at the beautiful open-endedness of it all. "Anything," I told him simply. "But there's something I have to do first."

* * *

_Dear Uncle Matt,_

_ You told me to write you when I decided what I was going to do, when I decided what my future would be. And I've decided. Well…the short answer is that I'm going to stay here. _

_ But you deserve more than the short answer. However, it _is _kind of a long story. The abridged version is that Neville and Hannah Longbottom are my two favorite people in the world right now. Hannah has offered to sell me the Leaky Cauldron! Can you believe it? It sounds crazy, I know, but I think I'll do really well there. I somehow feel like I belong there already._

_ But the most important part of my reason for staying is who I'm staying for. For one, I'm staying for my friends. If I had gone to America with you, I could have lost touch with them. And that's something I couldn't bear… And I'm staying for my parents. I know mum is gone – and that is something I will have to learn to accept – but my dad is still here. Somewhere. Maybe one day, I'll actually find him. Maybe I'll get to ask him the questions that have been driving me slowly mad for years. But I'm not sure, yet. _

_ Do you remember that one day during the summer before I went away to Hogwarts for the first time? You and I had gone to that Muggle cinema a couple miles away and watched that really cliché fairytale cartoon. It was some story about a peasant girl falling in love with a prince…Well, when we got back, you told me not to take the movie too seriously because love doesn't really work like that. You said that love isn't about pretty dresses and grand balls; it's about caring for someone unconditionally. Loving someone for everything they are. _

_ The point is…I've found that person. Considering how well informed you are about everything else, I'm sure that Neville has already owled you and told you all about it. James is…well, he's everything to me. He's my best friend. I mean…he's also really weird and a complete and utter idiot, but it works for me. Collectively, our insanity level is probably through the roof._

_ I think you'll really like him._

_ Don't worry about me, okay? I'll have a job and a flat on top of the Cauldron. Somehow, everything has worked out for me. You focus on your work and enjoying yourself in America. I mean it, Uncle Matt – enjoy yourself. Most people would jump at the opportunity to live in a faraway land…make the most of it. I can't wait to hear all about it._

_ You're my family, you big goofball. And I will always love you._

_ Your loving daughter,_

_ Abigail._

* * *

**A/N: **I know this chapter was _so _obnoxiously long, but I hope it was everything you all wished it would be. I worked very hard on it - I think I've read through it like 20 times, but I'm sure there are still a few mistakes haha!

Anyway, this was the last official chapter of _Twisted Logic, _but there is still an epilogue to come! I'll write more sappy crap in that author's note. Cause I love you guys.

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Personally, I kind of love it. See you crazy kids next week.


	28. Exitlude

**Full Summary: **Their story was incredibly cliche. The studious, sarcastic Abigail King is teamed up with the arrogant, trouble-making James Sirius Potter, who has always been her enemy, to be Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts. But neither is happy. James is constantly fighting the image of his heroic parents, while Abigail struggles with the painful reality of her family's situation and past. The more time James and Abigail spend together, the harder they have to try to hate each other. They can't quite understand why they seem to know the other more than anyone, helping each other through the rough times they face. But in the end, it's really quite simple. Hate can turn into love easily, and James and Abigail are about to understand this _twisted logic. _

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling. The content and ideas of this story are owned by peace. love. randomness - peacelovebooksx107 and randomrayyxx3 respectively. The song "Exitlude" belongs to The Killers.

* * *

**Epilogue: Exitlude**

"_Aggressively, we all defend the role we play. Regrettably, the times come to send you on your way.  
We've seen it all - bonfires of trust, flash floods of pain. It doesn't really matter. Don't you worry, it will all work out.  
We hope you enjoyed your stay. It's good to have you with us, even if it's just for the day. We hope you've enjoyed your stay.  
Outside the sun is shining, it seems like heaven ain't far away."_

* * *

**Three months later.**

* * *

**Abigail Evelyn King**

I ran a damp rag across the surface of the bar. The bells on the front door chimed, signifying another customer heading home satisfied. It was a sound I'd grown accustomed to in the past couple of months, a ringing that sounded like _home. _The whole pub was lit by candlelight, illuminating the empty tables and late night stragglers. The bar was almost empty – even the other bartender, Juliet, had gone home for the night.

I glanced down the counter and laughed, seeing someone. "Walter, I'm afraid it's that time of night," I told the thirty-something regular with a smirk. "Last call."

Walter sighed and rubbed his eyes with a dramatized wariness that always made me laugh. Working at the Leaky Cauldron certainly had some perks that I hadn't expected: I never had to go far for drinks, the pub was located between a quirky Muggle bookstore and a record shop, Diagon Alley was literally on the other side of the wall…and I met some _really_ interesting characters along the way.

Walter had been coming into the pub for as long as I worked there, so I assumed he'd been coming even longer than that. Sometimes he brought a boyfriend, but most days he just came in for a drink to forget his troubles. And most nights, his troubles were his mother.

"Oh, my dear," he moaned, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck, despite it being September. "Please don't force me to go back to that incessant woman."

I snorted, pouring some coffee. "You could always move out," I suggested, handing him a travel mug. "It's on the house."

"That requires a type of independence which I assure you," he whispered theatrically, "I lack." He slipped off of the barstool and made his way to the door. "Thanks for the coffee, my love," he called over his shoulder.

"See you tomorrow," I said, knowing he would be back.

"Without a doubt…" And he pulled the door shut, walking into the late summer night. I walked up to the door and locked it behind him.

With the last customer gone, I kicked off my tall black heels and hopped up onto the counter, looking around. In just a few months, Hannah had helped me learn the ropes of this place. Under her management, the Leaky Cauldron had turned into more of a trendy bar than the beaten down pub of the past. And now under mine, Hannah was sure it would flourish into a new haven for "the young people." She suggested that we class it up a little. So, we added more candles and started wearing heels and blazers. The staff and I all felt a little silly at first, but we really got into it eventually.

And Hannah was right…more people my age had started coming to the pub since she sold it to me. Actually, everything was going surprisingly well. The rest of the staff was around my age, so no one really questioned it when Hannah made me manager. Everyone was wonderfully laid back about everything. The whole pub had this feeling of relaxedness. I loved it here.

I glanced at the clock over the fireplace. Ten past two. _It was almost time. _I smiled and reached behind me, pulling out two bottles of firewhiskey and eight glasses. Every Thursday night after closing, the whole gang would meet up at the Cauldron for drinks. Most of us had started working already, so it was a nice little pick-me-up towards the end of the week, despite the lateness of our meetings.

Most Thursdays, Dom and Mitch would arrive a little later than everyone else, working late into the night to meet their deadlines for the Daily Prophet. As they'd hoped, they were both writing for the sports section. Sometimes I wondered, though… Long nights. Alone in the office…They always seemed awfully chummy when they walked in together. I had my theories.

Ryan was apprenticing at St. Mungo's, working up to his Healer status just as he had wanted. We all joked about "Nurse Ryan," but we were all really proud of him. Even Molly seemed to be loving her job these days. She'd just gotten a position at a magical law firm down the road in Diagon Alley. All without the help of her father, of course.

And it should come to no surprise that Fred and Morgan were still dating, as in love as ever. Morgan had started tutoring Hogwarts students over the summer, but she had her eye on an Arithmancy position back at school for next year. Even Fred was working hard…he and James were still in the process of grueling Auror training.

In the craziness of the late night crowds, I thought I'd seen James slip in through the front door before disappearing again. I smiled, recognizing the routine.

I slid off the counter and walked around to the back stairs, taking them two at a time in my bare feet. My flat occupied the third floor, separated from the rest of the rooms for rent. The hallway leading up to my door was bare and quiet. I pulled my key out of my pocket and slipped it in the lock, opening the door.

And sure enough, there he was.

James had picked up a little routine ever since he'd started training. Every Thursday before we all met up, he would come to the Cauldron early and sneak up to my room. It started one day when he showed up randomly at work, explaining that he was going to cook me a late dinner. I'd laughed, knowing James couldn't cook, but agreed anyway. But before the food could get on the table, he fell asleep on my couch. And the routine was born. Exhausted from training, he would always end up crashing on my bed for a few hours.

He was sprawled across my bed on his back, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up on his head. One of his hands was resting lightly on his chest and he was snoring softly.

I walked up quietly to the bed and, in a moment of uncharacteristic bravery, carefully climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. I heard his snoring stop and his breathing grow more regular, so I knew he was awake. But he kept his eyes closed, saying nothing.

I poked him in the neck obnoxiously, then kissed the spot where I'd jabbed him. "I know you're awake," I said.

His hands slid to my waist and he smiled, but his eyes stayed tightly shut. "Mmmm," he hummed, his voice hoarse from sleep. "Nope."

"Come on," I coaxed him. "Everyone will be here soon. It's almost two-thirty."

He peeked at me through his eyelashes. "I'm pretty comfortable here, thank you," he mumbled.

I snorted. "I'll just bet you are."

He slid his hands down my legs, setting my thighs on fire, and one of his hands accidentally grazed my bare foot. I let out a giggle, pulling my ticklish feet away.

He opened his eyes and gave me a look. "Where are your shoes?"

I shrugged. "I left them downstairs."

He shook his head at me and let out a big laugh. He sat up, sliding me more comfortably in his lap. "You are _so _weird."

I smiled, slipping my arms around his neck. "Yes, but you love me," I retorted, smirking.

He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. "Yes, I do," he answered.

Three months together and it still never got old. Three months of acting like idiots, staying up all night talking, some seriously wonderful snogging, occasional fights, then more amazing snogging…and it still made my heart race and my stomach clench as though we'd only been dating a week. Sometimes being with James was difficult. After all, he was just as good at arguing and being stubborn as I was. But most days, it shocked me how easy it was to be with him. I was more myself around him than I ever was with myself.

I slid my hands back into his hair, knowing it drove him crazy. I leaned in close to him, but didn't make any move to kiss him just yet. I could feel his breath on my lips, but I stayed put. I looked him in the eyes, realizing I hadn't seen him all day. "Hi," I said softly.

James stayed silent, his eyes glancing down to my lips. His arms tightened around my waist, pulling me closer to him than I thought possible. He smiled at me for a moment before tilting his head and closing the distance between our lips. I smiled through the kiss, tasting cinnamon gum. He responded to my eagerness by slipping his hands under the back of my blouse, resting them on the skin of my lower back. At his touch, my hands automatically went to the bottom of his sweatshirt and began tugging it off him. He pulled it off over his head, leaving him in a thin v-neck, before capturing my mouth again.

This was pretty much how the physical side of our relationship had been so far. Intense snogging, but nothing more. We hadn't quite gotten to _that _part yet. We agreed to take things slow for now. Sometimes though…he was just so bloody attractive.

I shifted my hips slightly and heard him let out a shaky breath. Knowing all good things must come to an end eventually, I pressed one last lingering kiss to his lips and pulled away.

"We should…erm," I said breathily against his lips. I blinked a few times, trying to focus. "We should probably go downstairs. They'll be here soon."

He rested his forehead against my collarbone, still breathing hard. "Whose idea were these get-togethers anyway?" he groaned, his hands tightening on my waist.

I sighed, secretly desperately wanting to stay up here with James. "Come on," I said. "Morgan said she wanted to tell everyone something. Maybe she found a new job or something."

He pressed a kiss to my collarbone and gently slid me off of his lap. "Fine," he grumbled. "But it had better be good."

I laughed and hopped off the bed, straightening my clothes a little. I offered my hand out to James and he reluctantly took it, still pretending to be put off. By the time we reached the pub, I heard banging at the front door.

"Abigail, open the bloody door," Dom called impatiently. I heard Mitch give a low chuckle.

I lingered at the back stairway with James and gave him a look, raising my eyebrows and nodding conspiratorially.

He stared at me blankly. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he deadpanned.

I gave a sideways glance to the front door, hoping that Mitch and Dom couldn't see me ignoring them. "_You _know," I whispered. "The two of them…"

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you going on about?"

I sighed, realizing he had no idea. "Oh, come on," I said. "Dom and Mitch! They've totally been giving me vibes lately. _Vibes._"

James snorted. "No way," he said. Then, he squinted and thought about it for a minute. "Right?"

"I – "

"Abigail Evelyn King, if you don't open this door…"

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, alright," I called, rushing to unlock the door. Opening it, I saw a slightly annoyed Dom and a characteristically pleasant Mitch.

"Took you long enough," Dom said with a smirk, pushing past me.

"Hey, Abigail," Mitch said with a smile.

I stepped aside to let him in. "Hey, Mitch. You guys are early today..."

"We submitted our articles early," Dom explained. "So I'm thinking its time to start drinking..."

Mitch snorted, but apparently agreed. While Dom and Mitch talked to James, I walked back to the bar and poured everybody a glass of firewhiskey. To my right, the fireplace erupted in green flames, and Ryan stepped out. He always flooed straight from St. Mungo's.

He called out a greeting to James, Dom, and Mitch and walked over to me, planting a friendly kiss on my cheek. James looked over and coughed loudly.

I smiled, rolling my eyes at him. "A drink, Healer Thomas?" I asked Ryan, holding out a glass.

"I'm not a Healer yet," he said modestly, taking the firewhiskey.

"You will be," I assured him, patting him on the back.

We walked over and joined the others. James wrapped an arm around my shoulder and placed a kiss on my forehead. "How dare you cheat on me with Ryan," he muttered sarcastically. "He's not even good looking."

I smacked his chest, but leaned into him anyway. After a few minutes, Molly walked in through the door, apologizing for being so late.

"I fell asleep," she explained. "But I think I saw Morgan and Fred down the street, so they'll probably be here soon."

She was right. Within minutes, Fred and Morgan strolled in hand-in-hand, Morgan rushing to give everyone hugs, Fred offering a sarcastic comment or two. The bar-owner in me double checked to make sure that everyone had some firewhiskey. When that was certain, we moved over to the bar. I stood behind the counter with James and everyone else sat on barstools, facing us.

"How's the real world treating everyone?" Fred asked with a smirk.

We all made noncommittal sounds, considering nothing much had changed since the last time we'd seen each other.

"Nothing new," Mitch said dully.

"Still exhausted," James added. "But you know that."

I looked over at Fred and noticed how…strangely happy he looked. I mean, Fred was _always _a happy guy, but I knew that he and James were suffering the same brutal Auror training. How was it possible that he could be so chipper when James was so tired? I glanced at James and I saw him studying Fred intently, obviously wondering the same thing. He saw me looking and shrugged, not knowing why he was acting this way.

Fred looked down at Morgan, who was being strangely quiet, a happy smile on her face. She was never usually this quiet, either… I looked between them, frowning. "Is something going on?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Morgan said.

"No, Abigail's right," Dom added. "You two are acting strange."

Ryan made a noise of agreement. "Yeah, Fred isn't usually this alert at two in the morning."

We all sat for a moment in silence, waiting for one of them to say something. Then suddenly, Molly gasped. "Holy shit," she breathed, looking at Morgan with wide eyes. "Is this your announcement? You're not…_pregnant, _are you?"

Fred choked on his firewhiskey.

Morgan shot Molly a look. "Give me a little more credit than that," she deadpanned, though she was still blushing slightly. "I'm like, the queen of being prepared. Merlin."

Molly put up her hands. "Jumped to conclusions," she said, laughing. "My mistake."

"So…" James said, looking at Fred curiously. Fred slipped his hand into Morgan's. "What's the big secret, then?"

The two of them smiled at each other. But it wasn't the cheesy, lovey-dovey smiles that annoying couples always had adorning their faces. Fred and Morgan smiled at each other in a way that said, _You're too awesome for words _and _I have your back for eternity. _It was so _them._

"Well," Fred said, taking a deep breath. "I asked Morgan to marry me." He shook his head and laughed, as though he couldn't believe it himself.

Morgan smiled widely. "We're getting married," she breathed, biting her lip to control her huge smile.

We were all silent, looking at Fred and Morgan with wide eyes. I glanced down to Morgan's left hand and sure enough, there was a modest, yet stunning diamond ring sitting there.

"Married?" Dom said slowly. "To…each other?"

Morgan hit Dom's leg and Fred snorted. "Yes, Dom," he said, laughing. "To each other."

I looked to Morgan. "I mean…" I hesitated, knowing I was trying to say what we were all thinking. "Aren't you guys a little young?" I asked. "We're all only eighteen." I glanced around, hoping I hadn't said anything too harsh.

But they weren't offended at all. "Oh, we are _way _too young," Morgan agreed.

"It's a bit ridiculous, actually," Fred joked, poking Morgan in the side.

She rolled her eyes at him. "It's just…we don't really see the point in waiting, you know?" she said softly, smiling at us. "It's…"

"It's the real thing," James finished for her, glancing at me. My stomach flipped pleasantly.

We were all quiet for a moment, digesting the news. Finally, Mitch spoke up. "Wow," he said, breaking the silence. "_Married._ That's…"

"Mad," Morgan laughed, nodding. "I know."

"Maybe," Dom said. "But it's perfect."

The thing is, she was absolutely right. It _was _perfect. Fred and Morgan might be really young – too young to get married – but it made perfect sense. They'd been together for long time, and I don't think I'd ever seen anyone our age so in love. They weren't gooey or superficial or immature, they were _real. _They were unconditional.

Suddenly, I felt myself tearing up a little bit. Because it was perfect. I walked around the bar and enveloped them both in a huge hug. Morgan let out a light laugh, squeezing me back just as hard. "Guys, it's wonderful," I said earnestly. "I mean, it's bloody mad, but I love it. Congratulations!"

Following suit, everyone else rushed up to offer their congratulations. The guys showed their support for Fred in man-hugs and lots of affectionate shoving. Molly, Dom, and I all crowded around Morgan and scoped out the ring. There may have been some squealing involved.

Everyone was newly energized, barely even noticing that it was getting close to three in the morning. I hung back behind the counter, watching my friends silently with a smile. It was sort of unbelievable how our lives had turned out. We were all making our way to the lives we always wanted. I felt my eyes sting again. James looked over, his smile faded a bit.

"Okay, this calls for some champagne," I announced, wanting to excuse myself for a moment.

Everyone cheered, embracing the idea of expensive alcohol to drink. I shook my head and laughed at them. I walked to the back of the pub and opened up the wine closet. Without looking behind me, I knew that James had followed me. I felt him put his hand on the small of my back. I scanned the racks of wine and found the best champagne, pointing.

"Can you grab that bottle for me?" I asked him. He reached up and took the bottle that I was talking about. But rather than handing it to me, he placed it on the little stool in the corner and turned to face me.

"You're okay, right?" he asked, putting his hands on either side of my face. My hands reached up and wrapped around his wrists.

I smiled. "They were happy tears, I promise," I said, knowing he had seen me tear up a little. "It's just crazy, you know?"

"What?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "Fred and Morgan getting married?"

"No. I mean, yes, but that's not it," I said. "Everything is working out for all of us. Last year…last year was hard, you know? Us being crap Heads at first, the stuff with my uncle, my dad…Its just kind of amazing that everything could be so perfect right now. Being with you…it's turned everything around." I laughed and stared at the ground, embarrassed that I was tearing up again. "It's stupid, but I don't think I've ever been happier."

James tilted my head up so that I could see his face. He was looking at me with a small smile. He didn't say anything; he just leaned down and kissed me. It was one of those kisses that just took my breath away. I leaned up on my tiptoes, kissing him back with the same enthusiasm. After a moment, we parted, not saying anything. He placed a kiss to my forehead and leaned his head against mine.

"It's kind of ridiculous," he said, his voice low, "how much I love you."

I leaned up, kissing him again. "Good," I responded. "Because I'm rather fond of you, myself."

He laughed, placing one last kiss to my lips before picking up the bottle of champagne. As we walked back to our friends hand-in-hand, I let myself wonder for the millionth time how I'd gotten so damn lucky.

Back by the bar, everyone was talking about the wedding plans, joking around about bachelorette parties and stag nights, the girls throwing around ideas for the dress. I started pouring champagne into glasses and James walked over to Fred, hooking an arm around his best mate's shoulders.

My heart swelled, knowing that in this moment, my seven favorite people in the world were just as happy as I was. I watched everyone quietly with a smile on my face. Ryan and Molly were teasing everyone as usual, causing the same eruptions of laughter that they'd been producing for years. Dom laughed along, spinning around on her barstool with childlike exhilaration. Mitch leaned up against the counter, smiling with the calm presence he always had. Fred had pulled up a chair and Morgan was sitting on his lap, her arm around his shoulders. Every once in a while they would kiss, possessing the sort of passion I knew they would _always _have for each other.

And then there was James. When I saw him, he was already looking at me. He was leaning against table, his arms crossed comfortably over his chest. He was listening to everyone else's conversations, but I knew he was only half-paying attention, watching me intently. When he saw me looking, he glanced around us before looking back to me, smiling.

His smile said, _I love you, _a look I'd grown extremely familiar with_. _But I could tell that he was thinking about all this wedding stuff, too. He was thinking about the future. Our future. Maybe one day, this would be us.

I smiled back at him, hoping that he could understand everything I was feeling. That I loved him back, that he was too awesome for words, that I had his back for eternity. That he was my everything. And that maybe one day, this _would _be us.

But as I watched those idiots I called my friends – and the biggest idiot that I called my boyfriend – I realized that I didn't have to worry about my future right away. So many things about the future were unclear. I had no way of knowing what would happen next. And it was kind of exciting.

But there were a few things about which I was absolutely certain: My best friends would always be there for me. My family would always watch over me. My dad was out there... somewhere. Uncle Matt would return from America. Morgan and Fred would get married. And James loved me.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered. For us, it was just the beginning.

* * *

**The end.**

* * *

**A/N: **And that concludes _Twisted Logic. _I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as we enjoyed writing it. It's truly been a ride, and I am so proud to have finished this wonderful story.

We'd just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has ever reviewed, followed, or favorited. It means so much to us that you all were so invested in our story. It's hard to put into words how much we appreciate it.

Now, as for the sequel...The answer is yes, as of now, we _will_ be writing a sequel. There are many unanswered questions and openings for new plot in this story - believe me, they were intentional! However, a sequel probably won't be posted for a while. Before I start writing the next story, I'd really like to go through _TL _from the beginning and edit the crap out of it. And even when I do start writing, I always like to be relatively far ahead into the writing process before posting any chapters. That said, I would recommend that you guys author follow us so that you'll know when the first chapter comes up. But if you don't want to do that, I'll probably add a chapter to this story to announce when the sequel comes up. In the meantime, feel free to reread _Twisted Logic! _Sadly, I probably will because I'll be missing my characters, haha!

Until next time, my beautiful friends.

-Lee and Ray


End file.
